Shattered Roads

by ALICE HENDERSON

  Until last time, she thought grimly.

  After she got dressed, she collapsed on the bed. At least now she felt caught up on her sleep. Despite being on the run, she felt more rested these last few days than she ever had before.

  She lay in the dark, drifting off to the sounds of the opossum tottering around the shelter.

  H124’s PRD beeped. She sat up in bed, and it beeped again. Hurrying to the table where she’d set it down, she saw Willoughby’s face flash on the floating display. She waved her hand through the image to complete the connection. He smiled when he saw her. Worry creased his face, but he managed a smile. “You’re okay,” he breathed.

  She nodded. “Are you?”

  He glanced around his office, then turned to her with a nervous smile. “Yes.”

  “Did you find them?”

  “I did.”

  She watched him type in a few commands.

  “I’m sending you the coordinates.” He frowned.

  “What is it?”

  “They’re farther away than I thought. A lot farther. Hundreds of miles from you. Scuttlebutt has it that they’re packing up their camp in a few days, and there’s no word on where they’re moving to. You won’t make it on foot.”

  She thought of the solar car. “I might have that one covered.”

  He raised his brow. “Really?”

  She nodded. Her PRD beeped again, letting her know that Willoughby’s coordinates had arrived. She waved her hand to another window in the floating display, bringing up the map. Her mouth fell open. He wasn’t kidding. The Rovers lay eighteen hundred miles from where she was.

  She looked at the time on the PRD. It was almost dawn. “I’ll set out today. Just need to get this vehicle running.”

  “You have to be careful. The PPC hasn’t given up its search for you. They’ve alerted other media-run cities. You’ve got to avoid those. I’ll send you coordinates for those too. They figure you won’t survive in the Badlands, and if you do, sooner or later, you’ll end up in a city center again. And they’ll get you there.”

  She leaned back in her chair with a sigh. “Why do they care? I’m just one person. A laborer, at that.”

  “They know you have copies of the information you found. They’re worried that you could distract consumers from . . .”

  “From what?”

  “The order of things.”

  “I don’t understand. Don’t they want people to survive?”

  Willoughby ran a hand over his face. He hadn’t shaved. “They don’t think there’s a real threat. They think it’s a hoax.”

  “A hoax? For what reason?”

  Willoughby leaned closer to his PRD. She could see he hadn’t slept. Dark circles clustered under his eyes. “Public Programming Control uses those who are plugged into the network for free labor. The PPC provides all the entertainment windows on the display, but there’s a task window too. Every few minutes, sometimes seconds, you have to enter a code or press a button to keep the entertainment streaming in. What people don’t know is that these commands keep the city’s infrastructure running. Maybe your task window starts the food cube machine. Maybe it regulates one of the temperature control stations. Maybe it stabilizes the generators that provide electricity to the PPC tower.

  “This way the media doesn’t have to put any effort into maintaining the city themselves. Consumers don’t even understand they’re doing it. They’re taught the code when they’re little, so it’s instinctive to them. But from time to time, we deal with hoaxes from those who want to funnel power away from the PPC and get the consumers to use their task windows to power some unsanctioned project. Other times hackers just want chaos, or feel like breaking down the media’s control. If consumers spend time watching pirated programming from these hoaxers, the attention is routed away from their task windows, and the infrastructure starts failing. The PPC suffers every second the consumer is engaged elsewhere.

  “It’s easier for them just to kill you outright than to lose any power. They can’t afford you to release that information in this city or any other. If people really started to open their eyes . . .”

  “The PPC’s hold would crumble,” she finished. Her stomach turned.

  “So keep your eye out. They’re coming. They won’t follow you into the Badlands, but they know you can’t broadcast from out there anyway.”

  She couldn’t believe this. A sour taste filled her mouth.

  Willoughby glanced around, more uneasy than ever. “Someone’s coming. I’ve got to go. I’ll explain more later. I promise. Be safe.”

  Her display went blank. Suddenly she really did feel alone.

  With the Rovers so far away, she had no time to waste. She had to get back to the vehicle hangar and start working. Cramming the automotive maintenance book into her bag, she donned her coat and headed out into the perpetual storm.

  Chapter 14

  Crouching on a stool in the vehicle hangar, H124 went over the auto book, studying the car. For one thing, the flat tires had to be inflated. She found a motorized pump against one wall and used it to fill them with air. She then threw the tarp off the car, revealing the hood. She opened it, staring down at the engine. It looked very clean. None of the wiring was corroded. She found an empty platform where the battery was supposed to be, with waiting wires running to the photovoltaic cells on the roof. She hoped the system still worked. This thing had been down here for ages.

  She found the winch and a tow ring on the bottom side of the car, designed to pull the vehicle up the ramp and out into the daylight. The piece of paper described where to find a switch that would open the large double door. She flipped it, watching the sun’s rays spill down the ramp.

  On a nearby rusted metal shelf, she found the batteries that were described on the sheet tucked inside the automotive book. They’d been latched up in large, rusted boxes. Unlike their containers, the batteries within were immaculate.

  In metal tins to the right of the boxes, she saw containers for water, so she filled them from a little spigot in the wall. She added it to the batteries, following the instructions carefully. She hoped they weren’t too corroded. They’d been sealed and protected, and for that she was grateful. The terminals were clean.

  She hauled one of the batteries over to the hood, opened it, and placed it inside. The other two she stashed in the trunk. She hoped to be able to keep one charged, or two if possible, so she wouldn’t have to stop and reload them too often.

  She pulled the winch hook back and attached it to the tow ring. Leaning inside the car, she switched a lever to N, following the instructions. Standing aside, she activated the winch, watching the cable pull the vehicle up the ramp and out into the daylight. She followed it out, catching a whiff of fresh air. A light drizzle rained down, obscuring the sun, but at least some UV radiation would get through to provide a charge. She watched the rivulets wash away the thin layer of dust on the cells. Now she just had to wait. Not wanting to leave the vehicle unattended, she sat down beneath a small overhang and leaned against a ruined brick wall, watching.

  Hopefully, she’d be able to start the vehicle in five hours. That would leave a few hours of daylight to make some headway. She didn’t like the thought of traveling at night, with the roads so choked with debris and laden with potholes.

  She sat with the car for an hour, gazing up at the storm, listening to the rain patter on the roof. As time wore on, she decided to leave the car for a while. She had to go back to the shelter and pack up some things: few field guides, the atlas, more MREs. She thought of the opossum and felt a painful pang in her chest at the thought of leaving it. Its shoulder was healing nicely, though. It would probably be glad to be out in the world again.

  She walked back to the shelter, imagining the journey ahead. She’d sleep for a couple hours, then pack up some food.

  A few hours later, H124 aros
e from her nap and looked around groggily. She sat up, reaching for her PRD. This was it. The car had been charging for five hours. She’d read and reread the automotive book, familiarizing herself with the transmission, the pedals, giving herself a virtual driving lesson. It didn’t look too difficult. At least she hoped it wouldn’t be. She decided to take the book with her.

  Then she’d filled her bag with MREs and grabbed a couple spare bottles with filters. From a hook near the door, she grabbed a warm-looking purple scarf. At the bookshelf, she selected the atlas, a couple of field guides on animals and weather. She scanned the shelves a little more and took a book with a story in it, something called Boy’s Life by Robert McCammon.

  Standing in front of the weather shelter map, she selected several locations that lay in the direction she had to take. She made sure she had their whereabouts on her PRD. Then she took the old PRD with Raven’s recordings and placed it in her bag.

  When she was ready, she approached the opossum, now sleeping under one of the beds. She stooped down, watching it breathe. A painful lump traveled down her throat. She looked at its cut, gently peeling away the bandage. Much better than before. She took off the bandage completely, waking up the opossum as she did so. It blinked up at her. She lifted it with care, pulling it to her chest. It didn’t struggle or play dead this time.

  She walked to the door, feeling the warm fur against her. She knew it belonged out there, with others of its kind, but she was reluctant to say goodbye. Taking one long, last look at the weather shelter, she exited, entering the code to lock it behind her. She climbed the stairs back to the ground floor, carrying the opossum with her. When she was outside, she set it down. It turned and looked at her, sniffing the air. The drizzle had stopped, and the sun shone down from gaps in the clouds. The opossum caught the scent of something and shuffled off.

  “Goodbye,” she whispered. “Good luck.”

  It hit her that humans weren’t all that would be vaporized if she wasn’t successful.

  She readjusted her bag on her shoulder and returned to the charging car. Easing into the driver’s seat, she inserted the key into the ignition. Closing her eyes and muttering a silent wish, she turned it. The car started. Lights dazzled across the dashboard. The battery meter was full. An old physical screen, similar to what she’d seen in the university building, winked on. It displayed a map, just like the colorful one she’d seen in the atlas, with a small car icon marking her position. The engine was so silent she couldn’t hear it. She almost expected nothing to happen when she pressed he accelerator. She placed the transmission in D. As the car inched forward, she tested the brake. After pulling on the emergency brake and shifting the transmission back to P, she jumped out of the car, closing the great metal doors behind her.

  Sliding back into the car, she looked at the road ahead, surveying the stalled cars and stone ruins that had spilled into the street. She’d have to move slowly, but not nearly as much as she’d been on foot. She wouldn’t be as exhausted now either.

  Turning onto the city’s main street, she put her foot to the accelerator, weaving between piles of old bricks and rusted cars. She kept her eyes on the road, and turned on the windshield wipers to clear away the rain. This was it. For the first time since she’d left New Atlantic, she felt hope rise within her.

  She sped up, heading into the unknown.

  Chapter 15

  Ahead of H124 stretched a sea of asphalt and ruined skyscrapers. The sky lay streaked with striped clouds, gleaming silver as they drifted across the deep blue.

  She’d been driving for two days now. Her progress was slow, but not as bad as it had been on foot. She’d been using the car’s screen to navigate toward the next shelter along her route, but many of the roads were impassable. As she wove between rusting cars and fallen buildings, she wondered if this human society had left any room at all for anything other than concrete. She encountered no open spaces, just building after building after building.

  It had stormed solidly the first two days. Once, she had to take shelter under a bridge when another hailstorm threatened to damage the solar panel on top of the car.

  The third day was proving to be blisteringly hot. The storm clouds had cleared in the morning, and the sun had been beating down relentlessly since then. She drove slowly through several decrepit towns, with broken asphalt linking them all, a sprawl of ancient cities that went on and on. Unlike the giant towers in New Atlantic, the tallest edifices in these places were only twelve or fourteen stories high. Most were long and squat, streaming by in an endless procession of ancient urban sprawl.

  At first she’d rolled the windows down, trying to get a breeze, but found it suffocating. The thermometer in her car read 115 degrees F. At last she’d discovered a button called AC and turned that on, finding a welcome cold breeze blasting out of the vents in the dashboard. AC was the same as the climate control in her building. She rolled up the windows, continuing on, grateful for a break from the heat. But it meant that she went through the batteries faster and had to stop more often to recharge them.

  Though she had to slow down numerous times to maneuver around abandoned cars and vast potholes that sometimes had left no street at all behind, she was making decent time, and her spirits were higher than she could ever remember. The sky stretched blue, with towering clouds starting to pillar in the west. Despite her dire quest, she found herself smiling at times.

  As the storm clouds blew in, she discovered a raised road with crumbling ramps leading up to it. She drove alongside it for a bit until she found a ramp that remained intact. The screen in her car showed that this raised road was a very direct route to the next weather shelter. She decided to take it, climbing the ramp and stopping at the top.

  Not as many cars lay scattered on this new road, which stretched straight into the horizon. The car’s screen called it Interstate 80W. She paused, gazing down the road, letting the car idle for a few minutes. Along both sides of the interstate, rusted poles held up small platforms with metal frames. Some still held large rectangular shapes inside, and from some of these leaked ancient wiring and old lighting. She started to drive, wondering what they’d been for. This new road was incredible compared to the weathered way she’d come, and her time improved even more. Before she’d found this interstate, she’d encountered roads that had proven impassable. Others crossed rivers, but collapsed bridges had made it impossible to get over in the car, so she’d had to backtrack and sidetrack and find new ways past these obstacles. Now that she’d found this interstate, maybe she wouldn’t have to skirt around anything. She wondered if she could stay on it until she reached her destination.

  As she drove on, she spotted a broken and faded rectangle, still partially held up inside its metal frame. She could only make out a few words, and a smiling face, worn blank in numerous places, gazed out at her. It read Upgrade from 16G! and at the bottom something about “unlimited” and “fees.”

  She drove until she could no longer keep her eyes open, then decided to nap in the car for a while.

  As it grew dark, she pulled over and curled up in the back seat. It rained at night, thrumming on the roof of the car. She found it reassuring and drifted off.

  She awoke to strong winds buffeting the car in the darkness. The vehicle rocked back and forth, the gale howling through the vents in the dashboard. She sat up, grateful to find the inside of the car dry. She thought about what she’d parked near. Nothing tall. This new road she’d found wasn’t lined with buildings like the other routes she’d taken. Everything was set back from it, so she couldn’t think of anything that might break free in the high winds and come crashing down on her. Nearly falling back asleep, she suddenly worried she may have parked near one of the metal rectangles and climbed out to check, so groggy she left her headlamp in her bag. She couldn’t see in the dark too well, so instead she walked in a widening circle around the car, trying to find tall shapes against the dark
sky.

  She heard the things in the dark before she saw them. They hissed, one on either side of her, also circling the car. She could only make out bent forms, walking somewhat upright, but mostly on all fours. One hissed again, closer this time, so close that a cold sweat broke down her back. To her left, the other one panted eagerly.

  Her mouth went dry. She realized that the things had gotten between her and the car. She wondered how long they’d been out there while she slept, planning their attack. With such thick cloud cover, she couldn’t make out anything around her, just the vague form of the car in the gloom. She’d never known pure darkness like this in the city. She started circling back toward the car, making it harder for them to close in on a moving target. As she stepped to the side she heard one hiss and saw a jet-black shape lunge just to the left of her. Fighting the urge to bolt, she kept a slow pace. She couldn’t make out any shapes, just pieces of shadow come to life. The other one hissed, feet crunching on gravel. She leaped to the side as something caught in her shirt, tearing the fabric. Cold and clammy skin met her bare flesh. She wrenched the shirt out of its grasp.

  The hiss became a strange, keening wail, and the hair on the back of her neck stood up. The other one made a grunting noise, then joined in the howl. She pinpointed its location in the dark, then dashed between it and the car. She ran with outstretched hands, slamming into the cold metal door. Yanking it open, she jumped into the driver’s seat and tried to slam the door shut. Something held it fast, so she reached up along the doorframe. Her fingers came into contact with a leathery cold, and she pounded her fist against it until it retracted. Slamming the door shut, she turned the key in the ignition. A grating scratch ran down the glass, and she gritted her teeth. Then she was roaring out of the parking space, spraying dirt behind her. She switched on her headlights, and the right beam caught something on the side of the road, a dark, rain-soaked form, hunched over, eyes reflecting back green. It flashed by so fast she couldn’t tell if it was human or some other kind of animal, but it was at least six feet tall.