by Harley Tate
“Another block or two.”
True to his word, they passed a sign for the 101 and Keith took the on-ramp. As he accelerated onto the freeway and avoided a string of abandoned fender-benders, Lainey scooted closer to the rear window to peer out the back.
As the road climbed, they rose above apartment buildings and backyards. A collection of cars congregated in a weed-filled lot beneath a palm tree and a group of men huddled in a circle. One pointed up at the van. A shiver rattled Lainey’s bones.
She turned back to the front, relieved to be on a major roadway above the heart of the city. But the relief didn’t last.
Keith slowed as they neared the 110 junction. “There’s a huge accident. Ten, twenty cars at least.”
“Looks like a jackknifed tractor-trailer.” Jerry leaned closer to the windshield. “I don’t see a way through.”
“We’ll have to exit.” Keith took the ramp for the 110 and followed it around a sharp curve. A green highway sign announced DOWNTOWN RIGHT 3 LANES. Lainey held her breath. The last thing they needed was to circle back around into the impact zone. She sat on one hand while she stroked Bear’s fur with the other.
Owen remained oblivious across from her, eyes glued to his screen.
As they neared the city center, evidence of the bomb’s wrath became plain. Where skyscrapers used to tower above the freeway, smoldering debris remained. One clung to its former glory, half-crumbled. Warped steel rods reached out to the sky in crooked tendrils and a waft of smoke rose from somewhere deep inside the remains.
Keith slowed as he drove over warped asphalt; even the road buckled from the force of the blast.
Accidents and abandoned cars littered the highway. Ahead, an entire overpass lay in hunks across the road. Keith exited the 110, navigating past broken chunks of concrete and ruined road, easing the van through gaps between the destruction. Time crawled as he inched out of the area and entered Chinatown.
Familiar gold dragons swooped above their heads as Keith turned north. Strips of markets with metal rolling doors lined the street, names all written in Chinese characters. Keith pointed through the windshield. “There’s an open store.”
Lainey leaned forward, gripping the seat back for balance as she stretched to take a look. Beneath a warped metal awning, a single metal door stood open and racks of straw hats and luggage and other items adorned the sidewalk. “We could stop. See if they have any bottled water or food.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Jerry straightened up in the passenger seat. “I count at least three armed guards. Maybe more.”
Owen perked up, blinking like he’d just woken up from a nap. “What’s going on?” He slid down the bench toward the rear window and palmed the glass. “Are those military rifles?”
“Maybe.” Jerry turned so Owen could hear him in the back. “I can’t tell from here.”
As they rolled past, one of the guards shouted into the store. Lainey rushed down to join Owen at the back as three more men appeared, each one holding a firearm. Two pointed at the van. One ran toward a bright yellow Honda Civic with tinted windows and a racing stripe.
“Guys?” Lainey called out without turning around. “I think you might want to speed it up.”
“Why?”
The Civic’s headlights flashed as two other men piled into the car.
“We’re about to have company.”
Chapter Thirteen
KEITH
Chinatown
Los Angeles, CA
Wednesday, 10:00 a.m. PST
Keith glanced in the side mirror and caught the glint of the yellow hatchback as it pulled away from the curb. Not good. He gripped the steering wheel at ten and two, squeezing the fake leather as sweat turned his hands clammy.
“What’s the max this thing can do?” Jerry leaned over to spy the controls.
“Not fast enough.”
“They’re behind us.” Jerry bobbed and weaved to get a clear view through the side mirror. “Looks like a driver and two passengers.”
“How many guns?”
“More than one.”
Keith grimaced. “We have to get out of the neighborhood.”
Pressing the accelerator to the floor, he blew past a bank, a jeweler, and an English language academy, all with signs written in both English and Chinese. A shop up ahead on the left was open with plants of all shapes and sizes lined up on the sidewalk. As they rolled past, the Civic behind them slowed.
Could they be that lucky? Keith watched the side mirror as the car parked in front of the store. One of the passengers got out and ran inside. Keith punched the accelerator. As they came to the next intersection, he whipped the steering wheel. The van tipped as it screeched around the corner.
“Do you think we lost them?” Lainey’s anxious voice called out from the back.
“No.” He flicked his gaze up to the rearview and caught her eyes in the mirror. “Tell me when they show back up.”
She nodded and turned toward the rear window. Thanks to the KSBF wrap, no one could see inside the back of the van. For all those men knew, twenty people armed to the teeth could be back there. On the one hand it made excellent concealment, on the other it made them conspicuous and hard to hide.
Keith raced down a street running parallel to the 110, the only car on the road. Chinatown wasn’t his area of expertise. One wrong turn and they could be faced with a dead-end alley and no way out.
As he neared an aging motel with window air-conditioners hanging out of every room, he cranked the wheel and turned into the parking lot. After easing around the building, he backed the van into a parking spot shielded from the road.
“What are we doing?” Jerry shifted in the passenger seat, visibly uncomfortable with the decision.
“Waiting.” Keith focused on the side mirror, watching the tiny strip of street visible from his vantage point. “Can you watch the alley and the street up ahead? We might need to make a fast exit.”
Jerry nodded and turned back to the front, staring out past a dumpster to the street running perpendicular to the parking lot. If this didn’t work, they would be sitting ducks. But Keith didn’t have another idea. There was no way to drive out of Chinatown without being spotted.
“The curtains of the motel room behind us keep moving.” Lainey sounded worried. “Someone’s in there, watching us.”
“As long as they don’t have a gun, let them watch.” Keith kept his eyes focused on the road. Any second now. Almost on cue, the yellow Honda Civic flew by followed by a white sedan right on its heels. He started the engine and shifted the van into drive. “Have they turned?”
“Not yet.” Jerry watched the alley and the street beyond. “I think they went straight.”
“Then it’s time to go.”
“Why can’t we stay here?” Lainey’s voice rose in alarm.
“We need to be gone once they realize we parked.” Keith kept watch on the mirror. “It’s our only chance.”
“We need to switch vehicles,” Jerry muttered.
“No way.” Owen spoke up for the first time in ages. Keith almost forgot he was there. “We need the satellite.”
“He’s right,” Lainey volunteered. “It’s our only reliable connection to the outside world.”
Keith eased the van out of the space and down the alley, holding his breath as he bumped onto the side street. Within a block, the street dead-ended at the highway. Keith held his breath and turned right, exhaling in relief at the sight of an on-ramp. He sped up, merging back onto the 110.
Cars littered the highway, most appearing to be victims of low-speed accidents. Some must have run out of gas. Keith picked his way through, dodging a pileup of an SUV and a minivan before edging around a pickup truck.
As he passed, a person rose up out of the bed of the truck, rubbing his eyes and squinting at the van. He said something and pointed and a woman clambered up as well.
They waved their arms and shouted. “Help! Help! We need gas!”
Keith tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “If we can’t switch vehicles, then we need to make this one less noticeable.”
“How?”
“Paint?” Owen offered.
“You really think an auto body shop will be open?” Lainey sounded incredulous. “Even if we find one, they would charge us a fortune or just lie and steal the van for themselves.”
“It doesn’t have to be a great paint job. Even house paint or spray paint would do.” Jerry glanced behind him as they left the shouting couple behind. “We need to cover up the logo.”
Keith thought it over. “Keep your eyes out for a hardware store. We can try a can of paint. See if it sticks.”
As they neared I-5 a series of tunnels stretched out in front of them, each one longer than the last. As Keith navigated into the first one, he slowed to ease around the broken facade. A large fissure split the decorative concrete arch and half-sprawled across the road.
For the first time an unwelcome idea took root. “What’s the likelihood a nuclear explosion would set off an earthquake?”
“From what I’ve read, fires are more likely.” Owen stated it matter-of-factly. “All that heat and melting debris. The winds could carry hot cinders for miles.”
They slipped into the darkness of the tunnel, the feeble lights of the van barely shining on enough road to see. Keith slowed even more, practically crawling past another accident.
Never had Keith been more thankful for the courthouse. While the rest of Los Angeles panicked and hopped in their cars to escape the city, they had hunkered down in a safe building and avoided the worst of it. He could only imagine what the 110 or I-5 must have been like Saturday after the bomb.
How many dead bodies were rotting away in these cars? How many people were killed as a result of end-of-the-world road rage and fear?
The sun beckoned and he accelerated out of the tunnel and into the daylight when Lainey called out from the back. “There’s a car behind us. Something low to the ground.”
“What color?”
“Might be white or light gray.”
“It could be the other car that took off looking for us.”
“Or it could be someone else on the road trying to get out of Los Angeles.”
“We should get off the highway.”
“And go where?” Jerry pointed straight. “We’re stuck here until we reach the interstate.”
Keith sped up, closing the distance between the van and the next tunnel. He risked running over debris in the road and popping a tire, but what choice did he have?
“It’s getting closer. Definitely white.”
Keith cursed. They couldn’t risk an altercation in a tunnel. If they ran into an accident or broken concrete blocked every lane…
He couldn’t think about the what-ifs. All he could do was drive. He kept his hands even and focused straight ahead, ignoring his side mirror and what might be coming up behind them. He wasn’t a bad driver, but the van wasn’t designed for slick maneuvers.
As they neared the next tunnel, the headlights of the car behind them cast a glow across the tunnel arch. Keith accelerated, narrowly avoiding a stalled-out sedan hugging the wall. Bear slid in the back as he swerved to avoid an SUV, and Lainey made shushing noises as the dog whimpered.
“Can you hold him?” Keith called out. “It might get rough.”
“Car is gaining. Looks like two men inside.” Lainey grabbed Bear and pulled him closer. “Short hair. Can’t tell if they have any weapons.”
Keith pushed through the tunnel and out into the sun once more. A car blocked their lane and Keith eased into the oncoming lane to avoid it. He slowed to inch past another car.
Fear tipped Lainey’s voice higher as she held onto Bear in the back of the van. “We can’t outrun them!”
What were they going to do?
“Slam the brakes,” Jerry said.
“What?” Keith cut Jerry a glance.
“Slow down and let them come closer. As soon as we near the tunnel, slam the brakes. They’ll fly right by us.”
“Then what?”
“We take them out.”
Keith shook his head. “No way. It’ll never work.”
“Yes it will!” Lainey clambered up from the back with Bear right beside her, sticking his nose between the seats. “Remember that police chase we covered a few years ago? That’s what the cop did to take that guy out. He let him fly on past and then he tapped the rear fender. Car spun all over the place. What did he call it?”
“The PIT maneuver.” Keith remembered that day. It was one of the scariest of his life.
“If you time it right, we can run them smack into the tunnel wall.”
He glanced at the side mirror. “What if it’s not the right car?”
“They won’t be hurt. Just the car.”
Keith didn’t have any time to argue. They were nearing the last tunnel. He focused on the rearview and Lainey’s pinched face, trying to remember what the cop told him after the crash.
Lainey pulled Bear into the back of the van. “Do you remember what that cop said to do?”
Keith steeled himself. “Touch. Turn. Accelerate.” The white car gained as he lifted his foot off the gas. “Everyone hold on.”
He took a deep breath and waited. As the tunnel loomed in front of them, Keith slammed on the brakes. The van shimmied and the tires squealed. The white car flew past.
“Go! Now!” Lainey called out from the back and Keith did as she instructed, punching the gas to come up alongside the smaller sedan.
As he came even with the rear, the driver and passenger twisted in the front, craning their necks to see behind them. Keith edged within an inch of the sedan, aiming his right front fender at the left rear of the other car. He tapped the sedan and turned the wheel, nothing aggressive, just a slow quarter turn. Time slowed.
The smaller car spun, back wheels no longer in contact with the road. Keith accelerated through the collision, spinning the sedan across the front of the van and toward the wall of the impending tunnel. The car hit the concrete and Keith left it behind, pushing the van to its max speed as they fled the scene.
“Are they following us?”
“No.” Owen’s shaky voice carried into the front. “The hood is crumpled. I don’t think they can get it started.”
Keith exhaled. He’d actually done it. A laugh bubbled up his chest as a familiar orange sign peeked out from a stand of palm trees. He angled the van toward the freeway exit, jittery as adrenaline left his system.
“Where to now?” Jerry scratched out the words with a dry cough.
The van bounced over the entrance to an empty parking lot and Keith pointed at the warehouse straight ahead. The giant sign hanging above the entrance welcomed them to The Home Depot.
Keith eased the van around the back toward the loading dock. “If any place will have paint, it’s here.”
Chapter Fourteen
LAINEY
The Home Depot
Los Angeles, CA
Wednesday, 12:00 p.m. PST
Lainey held Bear’s leash while Jerry and Keith struggled to break into The Home Depot loading bay. Owen stood beside her, shifting his weight back and forth as he fiddled with his messenger bag.
“Do you think one of us should stand watch outside?” He motioned with a jerk of his head toward a gaggle of tents lining the wall separating the warehouse’s loading zone from the turn-around behind the building.
“We don’t even know if they’re occupied.” From what she could see, it didn’t appear that the residents of the makeshift camp were active members of the neighborhood. “If they’re in there, chances are they’re asleep.”
“What if they wake up?”
“I guess we deal with it then.” Lainey patted the dog’s side. “Bear will let us know.”
“I know it’s none of my business…” Owen paused and pushed his glasses up his nose. “But why did you and Keith break up?”
The question c
aught Lainey off-guard and she stammered. “Uh, um, I… Well…”
He waved her off. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t have asked.”
Lainey couldn’t let it go. She knew exactly why they had broken up and it was all her fault. She’d just never had to tell anyone about it before now. She exhaled. “It was me. I wanted to focus on my career. Keith wanted to settle down.”
It seemed so silly now. Worrying about the next promotion and the number of minutes on air, pushing marriage and kids down the road.
“Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.”
Lainey lifted an eyebrow and Owen held up his hands.
“Not because you two aren’t perfect for each other or anything. But the whole kids thing. Be pretty hard to escape the apocalypse with a toddler running around.”
Lainey glossed over Owen’s proclamation about her and Keith and focused on what he said about kids. He was right. Trying to survive a nuclear attack with children to look after would be a million times harder.
“We’re in!” Jerry called out from the loading dock and Lainey and Owen tabled their conversation to join Jerry and Keith at the rear of the store. They split into two groups: Owen, Keith, and Bear set off to find paint while Lainey and Jerry headed in the other direction.
Lainey held her phone for a light. “What are we looking for?”
Jerry pointed down the length of the store. “A tube for siphoning gas to start with. We’ve passed so many cars, we could have filled up the van’s tank ten times by now.”
“Don’t gas tanks all have flaps inside that prevent a tube from reaching the gas?”
“Older cars won’t and thanks to the lack of snow, there’s a ton of older vehicles on the road down here.”
They stopped in front of coiled racks of tubing and Jerry picked a clear plastic hose about half an inch in diameter. He uncoiled a ten-foot section and used the tool attached to the bay to cut it off. “Now we need a pipe or two.”
