Wilders

by Brenda Cooper

  She hit the bottom with a jarring pop, kicked off, up and over the curb, and started pedaling for speed. Miraculously, the street tires didn’t shred.

  The bus had been parked near the exit. It had a clear path. It was an old gasoline thing, illegal but unconstrained by the lack of a transportation control system.

  She pedaled harder.

  The bus’s engine belched and rumbled.

  Her breath screamed in her lungs.

  Coryn spun her feet faster than the bike could react. She frantically added more gears, standing up, going all out.

  The bus lurched forward.

  She pulled in front of it.

  Brakes screeched.

  Pablo’s voice poured out of the side window. “Hurry.”

  She stopped at the front door, but Pablo waved her to the back door. Feet pounded behind her, and Blessing grabbed the doorframe, panting.

  No bike.

  “What happened?”

  “I lost the wheel.”

  “And you left it?”

  “I ran.” He paused, panting. “I couldn’t let you get away.” He reached in front of her and practically threw her bike into the bus. Someone caught it and pulled it in. She leapt in and he followed, his weight slamming her against the far seat.

  The door shut behind them.

  From the driver’s seat, Pablo called out, “Nice ride!”

  Everyone on the bus clapped for her.

  The noisy, stinking bus pulled out of the parking lot, full of people as illegal as it was, on its way—hopefully—to help save the city.

  CHAPTER FIFTY

  Inside, people jammed the bus. It must have started life as a school bus; it was bare, with small, rock-hard bench seats. Each row held at least two adults. A few had three or four, close together and hugging or piled up so one sat on the laps of two others. Some stood, in spite of the rocking, lurching movement. A few windows were covered with scraps of multicolored cloth, and a long ugly red-and-gray-spotted rug that had once been a hallway runner ran half the length of the bus, threatening to trip people as they transitioned between the carpet and bare metal floor.

  Pablo put three people out in front on foot to test routes visually. They waved the bus forward along side streets big enough for it to pass and empty enough for safety. From time to time, a group in the front of the bus argued over three large paper maps.

  Coryn kept glancing at her wristlet, which refused to spring to life and give her the information she craved. Blessing stood braced at an uncovered window, watching the strange combination of bikers, walkers, and people who still seemed to believe they could do something with their cars. “The companion robots look like they’re helping to keep things calm,” he said.

  “Of course they are. They’re trying to help.”

  “They’re working together.”

  “They’re machines.” Funny; she’d always taken offense when people said that about Paula. Had she started to believe Julianna? She realized that she hadn’t missed her in those moments today when she would have been handy, like hiding the bikes and getting them back down to the parking lot. She missed her now since she was thinking about her, and when Pablo had asked about her, but she had been okay about it for a lot of the day.

  “I’ve been thinking,” she mused. “Since the hackers gave a specific time frame, there must be something they want. A conversation like ‘give me a thousand credits in trade for your transportation grid.’”

  Blessing stared out the window. His forehead creased. “It’s got to be money or power.”

  “Or they need more time to get their plan in place. I mean, I don’t see an army.” Unless they were riding with part of one. But surely these were the good guys.

  “We should have refilled our water bottles back at the park.”

  He laughed. “We should have.” He pulled her close. “We’ll be okay.”

  People on the streets watched the bus lurch by. Some came up to the doors asking to get on, and they were politely turned away. Pablo deployed more people outside to keep strangers from getting too close.

  Everyone, even Pablo, climbed off the bus to clear room on a barely blocked ramp onto the interstate. When they got back on, she and Blessing shared a seat near the front. Pablo sat beside them.

  “I thought you were driving,” Blessing said.

  Pablo smiled. “I have a backup for all things.” Once again, he took Aspen, and the little dog curled against his chest.

  “If you tell us where you are going, we may be able to get more army than you have there.”

  “That would be good,” he said. “I am worried. I don’t want these people to die. Many are fighters—they survived Outside. But the city mystifies them.”

  “We have some fighters,” Blessing assured him. “Do you trust us?”

  “I trust God to give me what I need.”

  Coryn reached across the aisle and gave Pablo a brief hug. She had never had much interest in religion, and, after Bartholomew, she’d become decidedly unhappy about it. But Pablo’s belief felt sweet, and it worked in her favor. “Where are we going?”

  He gave them a destination in Northeast Bellevue, the biggest local downtown outside of Seattle’s downtown. If the bus didn’t already stick out just because it was moving, it was going to stick out in Bellevue.

  “Why there?” Blessing looked genuinely puzzled.

  “Bellevue is where the people we need to meet are.”

  So he wasn’t giving them specifics. Well, she couldn’t blame him. “And having more people will help you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you expect to fight?”

  “Not if it can be avoided.”

  She looked around the bus and thought of Liselle. “I hope you don’t have to fight.”

  Pablo continued down the bus, talking to others. She and Blessing started sending updates to Julianna, each typing a piece of a sentence at a time in order to force more information through the two small screens. “I wish we could talk to her,” Coryn said.

  “I know.”

  “I’m going to ask her about Lou.”

  “Of course you are. Get her this, first.”

  “Of course I will.”

  They sent coordinates and times, and got a rather cryptic message back. “Sending help.” When they passed it to Pablo, he smiled. “Bless you.”

  There was more room for the bus on the interstate, although they had to get off twice and physically move cars. Four to eight people gathered around each dead car and shouldered or lifted it to the side, sweating with effort. At least there weren’t as many other people here as on the city streets. The morning clouds had burned away and the mid-afternoon sun made the freeway a hot and boring place. Most people had chosen to get off of it.

  A bike trail ran beside the freeway here, and it was clogged with people and families heading both directions on foot and on bicycle. Scooters and some hover boards used the trail, too, and a few policemen in uniform had shown up. They were managing to keep a little order, primarily by shouting, but their hold didn’t look very secure.

  Halfway between Issaquah and Bellevue, Pablo cursed. “Everyone off the bus!”

  Stalled cars packed the road ahead, completely blocking every lane. They scrambled off, yelling at each other to group up. They created teams of six. The teams moved the cars at the edge of the pile-up further out, and then the next cars out, slowly creating a single center aisle big enough for the bus.

  While Coryn was helping to force a rather big and fancy round car full of windows and almost no good handholds into a tight spot, her wristlet glowed with an incoming message. Have plan. More in thirty minutes.

  Coryn checked. They had four and a half hours to save the city, or whatever they were doing.

  Thirty minutes seemed like a long time. Way too long. Of course, at this rate, it would be thirty minutes before they moved an inch.

  She went back to shoving the gaudy car forward. Vehicles looked a lot better in motion than sitt
ing still.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE

  Coryn and Blessing obeyed orders from Pablo to set the last car down. The sea of cars had been stacked so close to one another that most of the cars wouldn’t be able to open their doors. Still, they hadn’t damaged anything, and only fifteen minutes had passed.

  Coryn, Blessing, and Pablo were the only three not yet on the bus, and Blessing used the quiet moment with Pablo to pass along that they expected a message in about fifteen minutes. He nodded, glancing up the car-strewn roadway. The closer they got to Bellevue, the less passable the road. Pablo looked almost hopeless.

  Coryn sympathized. “Maybe we should just get out and walk.”

  “We might have to. But we have a lot of gear the bus is carrying for us, and which we might need.”

  Blessing looked the bus over carefully. “Stored under it?”

  “In the back.”

  At least there was a reason for the ridiculous bus, other than just that it could move at all. Maybe all vintage vehicles would be worth a little extra for a while, even after the transportation system worked again.

  Surely it would work again.

  The lack of nav systems support made her feel exposed and fearful. And she knew what was going on. At least, a little. How did the people in the rest of the city who had no clue feel? Surely they were even more scared? Were there enough police and robots and peacekeepers and emergency people to keep everything calm?

  She didn’t think so. Despair clawed at her, but there was nothing to do with that. Sitting down on the road and feeling her own fears would do no good whatsoever. She took a deep breath and climbed back into the bus.

  Aspen leapt into her arms, forcing a smile from her. Although here she was, taking him into danger again. She buried her face in his fur. “Someday,” she whispered. “Someday we’ll have a nice little apartment, you and me.”

  He licked her nose.

  The bus let out a great gush of black smoke and slid forward again. They made almost a mile before they had to stop again. This time, only two cars had to be moved. Two minutes. The road trended slightly uphill, and the tops of the myriad colorful towers of Bellevue rose all around them, throwing shadows along the foothills. She realized the time ultimatum and sunset were going to be close to each other and glanced back down at the wristlet.

  Blessing whispered in her ear. “The half hour is up.”

  “I know.”

  The bus stopped. Pablo stood up from the driver’s seat, staring forward. “Be prepared,” he called back.

  “For what?” someone asked.

  “There are people.”

  Coryn and Blessing pushed far enough up to see out the front window. Four people walked their way, quick and sure, and she thought she saw a few more of them, dodging cars. Late afternoon sun haloed the figures so it was hard to see who they were.

  “Day!” Blessing called.

  Coryn let out a huge sigh of relief. Day. LeeAnne. A few more faces she remembered from Portland. How had they gotten here?

  It didn’t matter.

  She practically screeched at Pablo. “Let me out!”

  He took one look at her face and opened the door. She handed him Aspen, and practically rammed through the door. Blessing came out with her.

  LeeAnne and Day jogged forward to meet them, everyone hugging. She had never hugged Day before; he felt as solid as stone.

  They stepped back, and for a moment it felt almost like a party since she was so happy to see them. “What do you need?” Day asked.

  “Are there more of you?”

  “Of course. Many more. We’re just the advance crew.”

  She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Is Julianna with you?”

  “No. But you’re to go meet her. I have instructions. We understand you have one bicycle with you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “We have sensors on them.”

  That made sense. “We left one behind. It has a broken wheel.”

  “It’s probably in parts by now.” LeeAnne grinned. “The sensor is riding around Issaquah, a little randomly.”

  Blessing laughed.

  LeeAnne turned to Coryn. “Julianna wants you to go to her. You’ve got to get through Bellevue and up into Kirkland. She’s heading toward you. With Lou.”

  That news dispelled some of her despair. Lou. “Good.” Mentally, she reviewed the route to Kirkland. She had been there before. She could do it again. “Can I take the 405?”

  “Probably.” LeeAnne eyed the bus. “Anything would be easier than this.”

  “No kidding.” Coryn held up her hands, displaying the scrapes and scratches she’d collected lifting cars by whatever parts she could manage to hang onto.

  “I need to go with her,” Blessing said.

  “Well, you shouldn’t have wrecked your bike,” Day teased him.

  “No, really. I want to be there.”

  “We need you here. Julianna has sent me with more data. We need to cover two places to stop the hackers. You’re leading the team with Pablo; I’m leading the other. What we’re doing matters more.” LeeAnne glanced at Coryn. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  Coryn shrugged. She had never expected to lead an attack team.

  Blessing stared at Day with a look of betrayal that would have been comical under other circumstances. “But we always work together.”

  “You were going to leave me for Coryn.”

  “That’s different.”

  Day smacked Blessing on the shoulder and handed a piece of paper to Coryn. “Here’s a map. Julianna said you should leave Aspen with us.”

  She wanted to protest, but Aspen would be safer. Maybe. Maybe no one was safe.

  She turned back toward the bus, but Blessing beat her to it. “You tell Pablo. I’ll get your bike.”

  “Thanks.”

  Inside the bus, she relayed her news while she picked Aspen up and clutched him close. He licked her face but was happy enough to jump back into Pablo’s arms. “I want him back after this,” she said.

  He smiled. “You earned him. He would have died out there.”

  She leaned down to kiss Aspen one more time, and Pablo touched her forehead. “Go with God and be safe.”

  “You be safe, too.”

  “Go,” he whispered. “There are only three hours and forty-five minutes left before we all get thirsty.”

  Outside, she found Blessing standing and waiting for her, her bike leaning against his backside, effectively blocking her from it. He held an arm out, a request for a hug.

  She smiled and came in toward him, and then he pulled her closer and this time she did tilt her face up, and he did kiss her.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO

  Coryn tucked her AR glasses down around her neck and swung her leg over the bike, starting off fast. It took five hard minutes to reach the top of the low hill, panting from the cold, no-warm-up start. Many cars still cluttered the road so she could only periodically glance up at the soaring towers of Bellevue.

  One bright side to the broken transportation grid was that apparently no one had figured out how to fly drones safely yet, so her view of the stunning architecture was better than usual. All of Bellevue’s buildings looked new and bright, sunlight reflecting in a myriad of windows, patio gardens and green roofs and living walls cutting the glare. Wide bridges provided shade for her in a few spots. A waterfall spilled down one residential building, probably fifty stories of water. The spray created a sunbow.

  Realizing the waterfall could dry up soon gave her legs more power, and she made it over twenty-five on the flat, her thighs screaming. It felt glorious. Adrenaline raced through her. She was a machine; she was fast; she was flying; she was doing good.

  In fifteen minutes, she made the turn onto the 405, and from there it was only fifteen more minutes before she switched roads again, catching the 520 for just a few hundred feet, and discovering a fabulous peekaboo look at the blue waters of Lake Washington. She quickly found a place to stop an
d lift her bike over the barrier between the road and bike trail. Before she remounted, she consulted her map.

  She hopped back on, merging into bike traffic, and exited the 520 bike trail to ride up a short hill and catch the Cross-Kirkland Corridor. Families with children and dogs, tech workers from nearby businesses, and commuters trying to get home without the train choked the corridor. She shouted at them to make way, and generally they did. One older man rushed her, using his weight to try and push her over, but two young men on foot pulled him away from her. She shouted “Thank you!” over her shoulder and kept going.

  She thought, perhaps, she heard the old man call out, “I’m sorry!”

  After less than a mile on the corridor, she took a side street and headed down a hill to the address printed on her note. She pulled into the driveway less than an hour after she had left the blue bus, Pablo, Blessing, and her dog behind.

  Now they only had three hours left.

  She knocked on the door.

  No one answered.

  She double-checked the address. She had the right place. It was a four-story house with breathtaking views of the northern part of the Seattle skyline on the far side of the lake. Across the water, the Bridge of Stars glittered in the late afternoon sun.

  She stashed her bike and followed a groomed gravel path along the side of the house. This put her on a ramp leading down to the water and a long floating dock. She walked almost to the end of the dock and peered out over the water. Instead of being full of boats like usual, the lake was nearly empty. Two ducks shepherded five ducklings away from her.

  A few boats appeared to be drifting, and, just two houses up the lake, a loose boat bumped repeatedly into a much larger dock, thumping against it with each small wave. It looked empty.

  Sailboats did better. A small catamaran glided by close in front of a house, and, to the north, a couple stood on paddle-boards, moving away from her. There wasn’t enough wind for any of them to go very fast, but at least they could decide where to go without the transportation grid.

  A canoe slid around the empty boat, keeping a respectful distance. “Coryn!”

  “Lou!”