Wandering Highway: A Desperate Journey Home

by Ike Warren

  “I think it would be smart for you and the baby to rest at least one night before we start off on the long trip home.”

  She remained sitting upright, her body ridged as she thought for a way to protest, yet the only verbal objection that came out was from the baby who began to cry in disapproval of the sudden change of position. Allan reached his arms out and pulled the two of them back against his chest and he began making shushing sounds like Jennifer had done. Soon they were all asleep under the shade of the tall oak tree.

  Allan dreamed that he was pedaling the bike over the bridge on the lake. He steered around a burnt up car and began to pass through the thick column of smoke where the airplane had crashed into the bridge. The heat was unbearable and he leaned his body as far from the fire as possible but he could not escape the inferno. He turned his back against the heat and the flames licked his flesh and his skin began to boil. Suddenly the fire turned into an army of ants that had crawled onto his body and had assembled upon his back waiting for their signal to bite into his burnt flesh all at once. When the ants bit down Allan ratcheted in pain and he began to swat at the ants that were tearing into his flesh but he could not get the creatures off his back and it felt that the more he swatted the harder they bit down. Somewhere out there in his dream he heard a distant voice calling his name but the insects would not stop biting him and he could not fend them off.

  “Stop Allan.” The voice said but he could not obey the command. He felt a force grab his hands and he could no longer swat at the ants because now something was holding him down. He tried with all his might but the ants took over and they were crawling everywhere on his body.

  “Allan!” The voice pulled him out of his dream and he opened his eyes. It was late afternoon and Jennifer was kneeling next to him with the baby in her arms and Allan leapt to his feet and began swatting at his back.

  “There’s ants! There’s ants!” He screamed.

  Jennifer looked at his back and saw nothing. “There’s no ants.” She looked closer and noticed that there were big red indentions covering the entire surface of his back. “Come closer and let me see.” She said.

  He knelt down, still swatting at the invisible ants on his back as she inspected a line of puncture marks in his skin. She looked back where he had been sleeping and noticed that the jagged bark on the tree matched up perfectly with the indentions in his flesh. “It’s the tree bark. It was hurting your skin.” She said. “Why didn’t you say something before?”

  Allan felt embarrassed about his dream and the way he had acted. “I figured you had gone through so much pain, I could handle a little discomfort.” He said. “I guess I couldn’t handle it after all.”

  “You’ll be ok.” She said as she rubbed the marks on his back. “You have been absolutely wonderful. I couldn’t have done any of this without you. You helped us make it this far. You found the bike. You helped me deliver our son. You’ve gotten us through so much these past few days and I am absolutely grateful that you are my husband.”

  He smiled at her and leaned in to give her a kiss while trying not to disturb the baby in her arms. She was right. Allan had done things over past few days that he never imagined that he was capable of doing, yet despite the good feeling that it gave him to listen to his wife’s praises, he felt a sudden sense of dread as he wondered what obstacles and challenges might lie ahead.

  He felt his stomach growl and he stood and reached into the bike trailer and retrieved the last of the snack food that they had scavenged from the vending machine back at the bicycle warehouse. He knelt down beside Jennifer and they shared the tiny meal and he made sure that she got the most to eat as she was still eating for two people. When the food was gone they were both still very hungry and Allan wadded up the wrappers and buried them under some of the railroad rocks so that they wouldn’t remind them of food again. He picked up one of the rocks and threw it out into the water and he watched it skip several times before it finally sunk down below the surface. Despite the chaos that was still happening a few hundred feet away Allan thought how peaceful it was where he stood.

  “It would be nice if Samantha were here right now.” He said.

  “And I wish my mom was here to see her new grandson.” Jennifer replied.

  “I use to hate going to your mom’s house.” Allan admitted.

  “I know you did.” Jennifer said. Allan turned to her as if he had just been read like a book.

  “How did you know?”

  “I saw the way you turned your nose every time you walked into her house.”

  “Do you think Ellie ever noticed?”

  “I’m sure she did. You made it pretty obvious.”

  “What I wouldn’t give to be there right now sitting in front of her wonderful food. I’d tell her a thousand times how grateful I am for her cooking and I’d lap the food up as if it was the greatest meal ever.”

  “When we get home, you can do just that.”

  They lay on the dirt under the tree with their stomachs half full from the last ration of snack food. It was evening now and the sun had already set in the west. They both wanted to press on but they each knew that Jennifer and the baby needed to rest, at least until morning. The last thought that ran though Allan’s mind was that if he could just fall asleep the night would be over sooner. Their bodies were so exhausted that the three of them slept until the sun rose again on the eastern horizon over the city of Rockwall.

  Chapter 17: Confrontation

  The next morning Allan and Jennifer went down to the water and drank until their stomachs were full. As he knelt by the water’s edge Allan scooped handfuls of mud and smeared it across the pale skin of his bare shoulders and chest. Then he placed a dab of mud upon his cheeks and nose. He looked like a lake monster as he rose from the waterside and walked back to their makeshift campsite.

  “What the heck are you doing?” Jennifer asked with bewilderment at his appearance.

  “You said I was going to get sun burnt without my shirt on. This is my solution to that.”

  “Smearing mud all over yourself is your solution?”

  “I saw a man with mud on his head yesterday. He was using the mud to protect his bald spot from the sun. If it can work for him then it should work for me.” Allan said.

  He urinated on the tree whose bark had given him the nightmares the previous afternoon and then they stepped out from the cover of the trees beside the railroad track and looked out over the highway towards the collapsed bridge. Jennifer put her hand over her mouth and gasped, “Oh my God.” It was as if she had just realized what had happened at the bridge. “I was so focused on the baby, I didn’t know the whole bridge was gone. Were people hurt?”

  “Yes.” Allan replied without elaboration.

  “How are we going to get across?”

  “We’ll have to detour around through the city of Rowlett or south through the city of Heath, but I think Rowlett will be the fastest route.”

  “We’ll follow you whichever way you decide.” Jennifer said.

  Allan pushed the bicycle rig as they walked back and followed the railroad tracks until they intersected with Dalrock Road. There Allan assisted Jennifer and the baby into the bicycle trailer and he took off pedaling north for the two and a half mile detour. The majority of the buildings and houses beside the roadway had been burned to the ground and entire neighborhoods lay in ruins. When they reached Lakeview Parkway they turned east on the old highway 66. Stalled traffic was thick at the intersection at the turn into the Lake Pointe Medical center and Allan had to dismount off the bike in order to navigate around all the cars on the road. He noticed that the medical facility nearby appeared to have been spared from the raging fires and they could see a large swarm of people moving about in the hospital parking lot.

  Allan stopped, “Do you want to go over to the hospital and see about getting you and the baby checked out?”

  Jennifer stared into the direction of the hospital as she contemplated her decision. She lo
oked down at her baby who was asleep on her chest and she rubbed her index finger across his cheek. “Let’s keep going.” She said as she looked up at Allan hoping that he would agree.

  Her response reassured Allan that his passengers were doing well and so he set off pedaling onwards down the highway. A little further ahead was the old highway 66 bridge that crossed over Lake Ray Hubbard. There was heavy foot traffic on the bridge as it appeared that everyone in the area had gotten word that the I-30 bridges were now impassable and everyone was detouring on the highway 66 bridges instead. Allan looked out and saw what looked like a sea of people crossing over the dual bridges and it reminded him of the New York blackout of 2003 and all the people who had taken to walking across the Brooklyn Bridge. He remembered that during that blackout some 10 million people were without power and how huge a news story it was for days and weeks afterwards. The news showed pictures of masses of people walking out of New York City and there was even a satellite photo of the Earth that showed the effects of the blackout. Allan wondered what a picture of the Earth would look like now. Would it be black due to the lack of electricity or would the fires that raged on seemingly everywhere light up the world, if only temporary until eventually the fires burned out. He wondered if the news stations could report on the event, what would their pictures and videos look like with over 300 million people pouring out of all the cities across the country if indeed the disaster was as widespread as it appeared? There was also another thought which filled Allan with a bit of hope. What if this event is just like that 2003 New York blackout, where as terrible as things are in and around Dallas, perhaps it is just a local event. Perhaps things are just fine in other parts of the country. The fact was he could not know, not yet at least, but he realized that if it was only a localized disaster that help should have already arrived and he realized that the longer that it took to find out just how big the disaster was, the larger the disaster would be.

  He looked out across the bridges and he was thankful that both bridges were intact across their entire spans but unfortunately he would be unable to pedal the bike across the two mile stretch due to the heavy foot traffic amongst all the stalled cars on the road deck. As he began to walk while pushing the bike beside him he accidentally ran into a couple of people with the extended wheels of the bike trailer. Those that he bumped into gave him dirty looks until they looked down and saw the precious cargo inside and they all gave smiles of forgiveness to Allan. As he reached the end of the bridge the foot traffic spread out and he was able to climb back on the bike and he began pedaling up the big hill that let into downtown Rockwall. The bike crept upwards in the highest gear available but the only thing that seemed to be moving were Allan’s legs as he pumped the pedals as fast as he could.

  Finally they reached the crest of the big hill and Allan stopped and panted for breath and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. He looked around at the downtown Rockwall area and it looked almost unrecognizable to him. Before the blast when he use to pass through Rockwall, the buildings, although never very tall and towering, always seemed to blanket the area with a classy upscale atmosphere. Now, the majority of the buildings in the area were in blackened piles of ruin. Even the police station nearby had not escaped the fires and there was something about the charred mounds of debris that made Allan feel uncomfortable. All of the buildings in the downtown area had been built close to the roadway and Allan considered how easy it would be for someone to hide behind the smoldering piles and attack them as they pedaled by. He felt that the sooner that they could get out of the area, the better.

  Allan turned to Jennifer, “Do you want to keep following highway 66 or do you want to make our way back to I-30? Both roads will take us home.”

  “What do you prefer?” Her response effectively made it his decision.

  “Well, highway 66 goes through a lot of downtown areas; Rockwall, Fate, Royce City, Caddo Mills. I’d prefer to avoid the downtowns if at all possible. Plus we’ve had pretty good luck on the interstate so far.” The last part of his statement reflected his discomfort with being so close to all the burnt up buildings beside them. At least on the interstate all the buildings were always on the far side of the service roads.

  He didn’t wait for her response and instead began pedaling down South Goliad Street to get back to the interstate. The street was on a steep downgrade and Allan was able to pick up a considerable amount of speed. He was enjoying the cool wind that was blowing across his face when he suddenly drove over a rough spot in the road which caused the bike trailer to bounce and the baby inside let out a cry to show his disapproval of their high rate of speed. Allan gripped the hand brakes for their first real test since they had set out from the bike warehouse but he had not set the brakes properly when he assembled the bike because neither the front nor the rear brakes took hold. The bike rounded a corner near the bottom of the hill and Allan saw that immediately in front of them there was a cluster of stalled cars that had stopped on the road in an unusual manner that seemed the block the entire roadway.

  “Slow down!” Jennifer screamed at him from behind.

  “I’m trying! He yelled back as he put out both feet and slid them along the pavement in a last ditch effort to slow their high rate of speed. He looked at the cars ahead and saw that on each side of the roadway there were rocky embankments and he realized that to try to steer around the line of cars would spell doom for them. His thoughts raced in unison with their high rate of speed. Why are the cars lined up like that? Why hasn’t anyone moved them out of the way already?

  His only hope was to stop the bike before they crashed into the cars. He dug his feet hard into the pavement and he could feel the linings of his shoes become hot due to the friction against the road surface. Suddenly the outer sole on his right foot ripped apart and folded under itself and the heat against his foot became tremendous without its rubber heat shield. Finally the bike began to grind to a halt but not quite enough to prevent the front tire of the bike from slamming into the side door of one of the parked cars. When the tire made its impact the bike stopped with a thud and the bike trailer behind it heaved up into the air and it jackknifed causing the hitch of the trailer to swing around and dig hard into the side of Allan’s already injured leg. Jennifer screamed profanities and the baby screamed an enormous wail from his tiny lungs. Allan freed his leg and limped off the bike and quickly unzipped the cover of the trailer. By then Jennifer had stopped spewing profanities and was checking the baby for injuries. She handed the baby to Allan and he looked the infant over but he did not see anything visually wrong with him. He began rocking the baby over his shoulder and the boy’s mammoth cries receded into tiny whimpers.

  “You think he’s ok?” Jennifer asked.

  “Yeah, I think he just got a little scared.” Allan replied.

  Jennifer stepped out of the trailer and examined her own body for injuries but found none. Her concern quickly turned back into anger. “Why the hell were you going so fast?”

  “I didn’t mean to. The brakes failed and there was no way around all these damn cars lined up on the road.”

  He handed the baby to Jennifer and knelt down to look over the bike and inspected the front wheel where it had slammed into the car. As he stood up to tell Jennifer that the front wheel did not look too terribly bent he saw a tall dark man standing behind her with a pistol pointed at them. Jennifer saw the frightened expression on Allan’s face and she turned and saw the man and shrieked.

  “Step back from the bike.” The tall gunman demanded. He was wearing a red bandana and his shirt sleeves had been torn off to reveal prison style tattoos that created sleeves of ink that ran from his shoulders down to his wrists. Allan noticed that the man’s hands were blackened like the charred remains of the burnt up buildings around town as if the man had been rummaging around in the ruins or perhaps he was the one responsible for setting some of the fires himself. Allan realized that both he and Jennifer had just been standing there in shock instead of followi
ng the man’s command and images of the gunman shooting down the driver of the old Bel Air car just days before flashed through his mind.

  “Do what he says Jennifer.” Allan said and he immediately regretted using her real name.

  “Yeah Jennifer, do what I say.” The tall gunman tormented.

  They backed up and Allan bumped into another tall man who was standing right behind them holding a shotgun. The second gunman had similar dark stains on his hands and he was also wearing a red bandanna on his head. Suddenly three more men appeared behind the first gunman, each wielding what appeared to be assault rifles. The last three men were shorter than the first two and all of them had filthy, tattered clothes.

  Allan glanced at the cars in the road and he suddenly realized that they had not stalled out in a line on the roadway like that on their own. The cars had been deliberately setup like that in order to form a barricade.

  “Why you going so fast fo?” The first gunman who was the apparent leader of the group said as he leaned down to inspect the car that Allan had slammed into. “God-damn. You scratched my damn car.”

  “I’m sorry, the brakes on my bike failed.” Allan apologized knowing that his words meant nothing to the gunman.

  “I knows that. I saw you slidin’ yo damn feet. That shit was funny as hell.” The leader said and the rest of the gang members behind him chuckled in unison. “You see, most people come through here, they gotta pay a toll. These cars are my tollbooth. We accept all forms of payment. Sometimes we might accept a watch, sometimes a piece of jewelry, whatever I deem appropriate. Call it a fee fo’ using my roadway. See, I don’t know if you noticed, but the police station, well, they ain’t got a police station no mo’.” The leader paused and stretched out his arms wide as if showing the full expanse of his domain, “This here is now my roadway. And yous’ was just speedin on my roadway.” He put his hand on his chin as if contemplating an important decision. “Now I’m gonna have to issue yous’ a ticket for speedin’ on my roadway.” He walked closer to Jennifer with a strut. “Yo’ fee for speedin’ is going to be this fine, beautiful, sexy…” The gunman paused and leaned in close and sniffed Jennifer’s hair. Allan’s blood boiled and the other gunmen watched on in anticipation of what their leader’s next words might be. The lead gunman leaned in even closer to the back of Jennifer’s neck and as he stood towering over her he glanced down at her chest. For a brief moment Allan saw the expression on the leader’s face change. When the gunman looked to peer down at Jennifer’s breasts he instead saw the infant baby in her arms and the look on the man’s face turned from lust into an expression that Allan could only describe as compassion. It was as if seeing the tiny baby resting in his mother’s arms reminded the gunman of something or someone in his past, a time before the blast had changed everything. The lead gunman apparently shrugged his memories aside and backed away from Jennifer and continued strutting around with his hand placed back on his chin as if still in deep thought. “Yo’ fee is going to be that bike. You give me the bike, we let you go free.” The rest of his men let out grunts of disapproval for their leader’s decision.