“Shut the fuck up, Lloyd!”
“Don’t be angry, kid. You’re doing great.”
“I can’t even figure out if we’re going in the right direction.”
“Turn around and start shooting at their tires.”
“I can’t because I need to save bullets.”
“For what?”
“Nebraska!”
Frustrated and desperate, Cassidy spins the car around and barrels toward their remaining pursuers. She is relieved to see the bulletproof windshield deflect several small shots, but the sight of a man aiming a large rifle makes her fear that she has made a mistake. Guessing that he is aiming for her, she moves the car to the right an instant before the bullet takes out her side view mirror. Moving back to her original spot, she pushes the pedal to the floor and passes close enough to hit the exposed shooter with her other mirror. The man hangs limply out of the window and his gun manages to fall into Lloyd’s lap.
“Awww, he gave us a present,” the grinning killer states while stuffing the weapon into the backseat. “I’m getting bored. Do you think we can put an end to this?”
“I’m fucking working on it!”
Cassidy glances over her shoulder to see that they only have the motorcycles and one sedan behind them. It takes her a precious second to see that the remaining trucks have moved to the other side of the parkway and are trying to get ahead of her. Turning back around, she spots the turn off for the Cross Island Parkway and swerves onto it, her finger flicking the blinker on out of habit. Screeching brakes tell her that the larger vehicles are scrambling to continue the chase and she glances back to see one of the motorcycles make too sharp a turn. The driver leaps off and splashes into the nearby pond, his bike smashing into the dirt and tumbling into the stagnant water. The others are more cautious, which Cassidy uses to her advantage by continuing on and heading down the road that will lead her back to the first parkway. Using her rearview mirror, she waits until all of the motorcycles have gone by her real path before turning the jeep off the road. With a few bumps and skids, the heavy vehicle makes it to the other ramp and leaves the confused pursuers behind. The bikers are unable to follow without launching themselves off the overpass or giving the jeep a ridiculous head start while the trucks are too far behind to be of any help. Cassidy waves her middle finger out the window as she continues racing down the empty road and heads for the Throgs Neck Bridge, which will take them into exile.
“I’ll admit that was kind of fun at the end,” she says, her breath coming in gasps. Sweating from the heat and stress, she carefully wriggles out of her pea coat and opens all of the car windows for some fresh air. “We’re not going to stop until we get to Teaneck and then we’re going to hide until the morning. Neddy has a place for these drop-offs, so we’ll camp out there while keeping the jeep out of sight.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Lloyd mutters as he wrestles with a map he found under the seat. He runs his finger along the route that they are taking and crumples up the paper instead of neatly folding it. “I think you would have made better time if you used the Long Island Expressway. It would have put you further north on this road.”
“God no. Even after the blockade and collapse of society, you’d have to be crazy to use the L.I.E. on a weekday afternoon,” Cassidy replies with a smirk. The somber expression on her companion’s face makes her shiver considering he has been all smiles, threats, and jokes since they met. “Is there something on your mind, Lloyd? I’m sorry about cursing at you if that’s the problem. Though I really wasn’t in the mood for talking or joking around. Give me some time and I might get used to your sense of humor. The fact that I can call it humor is a step in the right direction.”
“It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“I’m just afraid that leaving this area means we won’t know landmarks.”
“Probably.”
“Won’t that confuse the audience or anger locals?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Never mind.”
Rhinos in the Road
After sleeping in the cramped jeep for two nights, the aching travelers are happy to see Neddy’s delivery truck come around a nearby bend. Cassidy waves to the workers as they place the boxes and bags at the base of an empty flagpole. Two fallen beams and the remains of a sign have been arranged to create a nest that prevents people from easily spotting the gathered merchandise. Due to the drop being made in the late morning, there are two armed guards who watch for signs of scavengers and thieves. Whenever they hear or see movement coming in their direction, they lift their rifles and squeeze off a single shot to scare the lurking people away from the area. Not wanting to cause any confusion or start a fight over a misunderstanding, Cassidy and Lloyd wait patiently among the trees that sit on the other side of the cracked street. It takes an hour for the supplies to be fully unloaded and checked, the men trained to make sure the buyer gets everything in perfect condition. Ignoring the two figures in the shadows, the workers get back in their truck and drive back the way they came.
Lloyd sprints toward the flagpole while Cassidy hurries to the nearby parking lot, their vehicle sitting among a collection abandoned cars. They notice a trio of Wilders heading toward the small pile of supplies, but the fur and rag wearing group is scared off by the honking of the jeep’s horn. Having had a previous run in with them over a cooked squirrel, Lloyd dances and flips the locals off in the hopes that they will give him a reason to fight. He is disappointed that they continue their retreat, the Wilders refusing to suffer from the paintball pellets again. By the time Cassidy parks the jeep on the grass, her friend is pouting and repeatedly tossing his knife into the ground.
“Stop moping. There will be plenty of people to kill out there,” she declares, her eye twitching at her own words. Gathering the new weapons and ammunition, the young woman goes about placing them in their predetermined spots. “What I mean is that you’ll find people aching for a fight. No need to trick, coax, or whatever it is you do to get victims. If you’re looking for death then you’re going to find it out there. Now stash the biohazard suits, water, and food behind the seats. We won’t need all of it while driving and I refilled the canteens to keep up front.”
“Neddy sent me some blue paintballs,” Lloyd says, ignoring the orders. Opening the canister, he sniffs at it and shudders at the stench. “Bleach. I’m not sure how effective hitting someone in the face with bleach will be. Did you want something?”
“Only a companion who can help with the heavy lifting.”
“Then you shouldn’t have left me alone with the big guy.”
“You know, the sooner we pack, the sooner we can leave.”
“But you didn’t say the magic word.”
“Please help pack the supplies before I hit you in the balls with a road flare.”
“Now was that so hard?”
Pausing once for some food and water, the pair get everything packed and fill up the tank using gas they siphoned out of several parked cars. Cassidy takes a moment to study the crinkled map and smiles when she sees that the onramp for Interstate 80 is only minutes away. The young woman wishes she asked for binoculars, but she can try to find a pair when they reach a rest stop or stumble upon one of the hundreds of nomadic trade groups in that roam the country. Excited to truly start her journey, Cassidy gives a kiss to her precious locket and hurries into the driver’s seat. Turning to see if Lloyd is in the car, she catches him puckering his lips and making smooching noises. The man stops when she pops a yellow paintball pellet into his mouth and he struggles to avoid breaking the orb.
Once Lloyd carefully removes the vomit-inducing ammo from his mouth, the jeep revs to life and pulls onto the road. With the windows open and a classic rock CD in the player, Cassidy drives toward a weed-covered onramp and grins at a handwritten sign that directs her toward Interstate 80. Not wanting to hit any wreckage that might be hidden around the long curve in the road, she goes slowly and fi
ghts the temptation to speed. It is this sudden cautiousness that saves them from slamming into an unexpected obstacle, the jeep’s tires screeching as she slams on the brakes. Lloyd swears at the sensation of the seatbelt scratching against his neck and he is about to yell at Cassidy when he notices the lumbering creatures that are blocking their path. The ivory-horned animals’ are munching on grass that has grown over part of the road and giving very little attention to the rumbling vehicle.
“Is that a pair of rhinos?” he asks, barely able to believe what he is seeing. Reaching over for the horn, he stops when his companion’s gun presses against his knee. “That’s a pretty big threat, little lady. Even if the rhinos charge, the jeep should protect us while we drive backwards and find another way around. So you might want to put the pistol away before I get angry. Just imagine what I could do with one of those horns.”
“The animals are not the real danger, so shut up and listen,” Cassidy says while turning her gun to show that the safety is still on. Turning the engine off, she sinks low in her seat and pushes it back to get more leg room. “Whenever you run into an exotic animal that probably came from a zoo, you have to run in the opposite direction. Right now, we’re too fucking close and I’ve no idea where the real threat is hiding. Backing up is probably the safest move, but I want to sit still for a while to become part of the scenery.”
“If you give me context, I’ll let you sleep without one eye open tonight,” Lloyd states with a grin. A sudden sensation of being watched makes him lick his lips and draw his knife, but he is unable to find the source of his anxiety. “One thing I learned in Rikers is how to know when I’m being hunted. There’s a predator out there. A chill in the air, but not like the one a person like me would give off. No bloodlust, yet there’s no fear of killing.”
Cassidy gestures for Lloyd to move his seat back and points at the stolen side view mirrors that have been taped into place. “That would be the Guardian. Soon after the blockade, a bunch of animal rights groups broke into the zoos. They released the animals before realizing that others would see them as threats, trophies, or food. So a new organization was founded to protect them by creating preserves around the country. Unfortunately, a violent faction appeared almost immediately. You see, most Guardians will give warning shots or maim a person they think is a threat to their charges. Key word there is ‘think’ since you could just be passing by or have accidentally stumbled into the area. Still, it is a high chance that you will only be hurt. Then again, you also have Guardians who will kill without hesitation and think humans are nothing more than world-destroying vermin. These people will even murder children who get too close, which means our situation is rather sensitive. We have no way of knowing if this Guardian is sane or unhinged. The smartest move is to wait for the rhinos to leave the area. Even if they get off the road, us driving in their general direction might be mistaken for poaching.”
“What if we dressed up in red and blue spandex then shot silly string at them?”
“I’m disappointed that I understood that reference. Still no.”
“Then we can just watch and see what kind of Guardian we’re dealing with.”
Cassidy cranes her neck to look over the dashboard and sees the trio of Wilders nearing the rhinos. The group of two women and one man are foraging in the grass at the side of the road, none of them showing interest in the beasts. One of the large animals turns to face the humans and yawns before shaking several flies off its head. Watching the scene continue without violence, Cassidy breathes a sigh of relief and is ready to fix her seat. The crack of a distant gunshot rings out at the same time the male Wilder is killed by a bullet to the head. Retreating toward the trees, the women are taken down swiftly even though they are obviously not a threat to the rhinos. For their part, the beasts jog to the other side of the road and return to their grazing as if the sniping is a natural part of their day.
“This Guardian isn’t as bad as others, but we need to get out of here,” Cassidy whispers while turning the jeep on and putting it in reverse. Shifting down her seat, she grabs the wheel and stretches toward the gas pedal, her boot barely touching the metal. “Stay down and we’ll blindly go backwards. I can work with the mirrors to avoid getting us killed and then we’ll find another way. Welcome to the future, old man. Bet you wish you were still in jail.”
“Only if it’s a women’s jail,” Lloyd responds with a grin. Peeking around his seat, he prepares to give her directions when a new noise rumbles toward them. “If you’re going to move then you need to do it now. Maybe even go off the road because I think we have a big problem heading our way.”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”
There is no time for Cassidy to move the jeep before they see the front of a tractor trailer come around the far bend. The semi’s horn blares in an attempt to urge them out of the way, the driver unaware of the danger he has stumbled into. Another gunshot rings out and the driver’s side window explodes, a baseball cap flying out with the glass shards. The truck moves from side to side and at one point gives the illusion that it is about to turn around. With the dead driver leaning on the wheel, the large vehicle swerves and violently rolls toward the jeep. The cab skids across several lanes while the trailer finally stops several yards behind the smaller vehicle, preventing it from escaping. While still registering what has happened, Cassidy puts them in park and turns off the ignition to save gas. Through all of the noise and chaos, the rhinos continue to graze and wander around the onramp.
“What just happened?” Cassidy asks, examining at the carnage through the rearview mirror.
“That Guardian sniped a truck driver. Now we’re trapped between the wreckage and a pair of rhinos,” Lloyd answers while reaching back to grab a beer out of a cooler. He frowns at the cheap brand, which he has always thought tasted like somebody peed in seltzer and topped it off with shaving cream. “Maybe this is deus ex machina. Then again, I’m not really sure this solves a problem, which is what that phrase should be used for. This is why people shouldn’t drink and write.”
“I think you mean drink and drive.”
“Pretty sure the bullet didn’t care if he was sober or drunk.”
“You lost me, Lloyd.”
“Yeah, I’m confused too. What do we do now?”
“Wait for an opportunity.”
Lloyd nods his head even though the prospect of being trapped in an unmoving jeep for several hours makes him hungry for violence. An idea to pass the time comes to his mind, so he turns in his seat to get at his collection of knives. Searching another pack for a marker, the serial killer whistles while writing names on his weapons. Each moniker is carefully chosen and run by Cassidy, who humors the madman more out of a sense of self-preservation than any real interest in his newest quirk.
*****
Tossing an empty bottle out the window, Lloyd squints in the dying sunlight to see if any of the bodies sprawled around the overturned truck have moved. He counts seven corpses that have been left by the overprotective Guardian, who he assumes is atop the ivy-covered remains of a hotel. Sliding further down in his seat, he tries to stretch the muscles in his lower back without startling the distant sniper. A previous attempt cost them the CD player after the bullet passed through the rear window and narrowly missed Lloyd’s arching torso. The pair have spent the last two hours in near silence, the only utterance a grunt that is a sign for the other to put a jacket over his or her head during private moments.
“Why won’t those fucking animals leave?” Cassidy finally asks when the rhinos move back to the other side of the road. The two beasts hunker down and get ready to sleep, their comfort feeling like an insult to the trapped travelers. “I admit that I don’t know anything about rhinos, but I’m sure they don’t stay in one spot for hours. Unless one of them is about to give birth or there’s something attracting them to this specific area. Kind of like catnip, but for rhinos. Betting there are motion sensors on them too, so the Guardian can tell when some
one is nearby. That’s how the bastard or bitch is aware of threats. Probably isn’t even bothering to consider if there’s real danger or not. I mean, she shot a teenager back there. Oh my God, when will these things get out of our way?”
“Sounds like you needed to get that off your chest,” Lloyd says, his foot repeatedly pressing the power button of the broken CD player. With a chuckle, he taps his companion on the shoulder to make sure he has her attention. “I know we’ve only been together for a week, but we still barely know each other. Both of us must have questions. What if this is the part of the story where we get to learn more about our pasts?”
“Why do you keep doing that?”
“Oh goodie. I was hoping you’d ask first. Doing what?”
“Talking about being in a story.”
Abruptly somber and thoughtful, Lloyd scratches his head and stares at the ceiling as if he is peering at the darkening sky. “Because we’re two strangers going on a unique trip through an altered homeland. That just screams main characters in a story to me. I mean, most people exist without an adventure. They’re born, grow up, work, have sex, have kids, and die with nothing more than photo albums left behind. The two of us are doing something amazing. All of the stories I read in jail had people doing stuff like this, so it makes sense that we’re characters. After all, somewhere out there are worlds where our fiction is reality and our reality is fiction. How do you know a person isn’t curled up in bed reading about us?”
“Not that I believe you, but I guess that makes sense in your mind,” Cassidy says while reaching back for an apple. Pulling a knife out of her pocket, she carefully slices part of the fruit off and tries to eat it without making a noise. “Though if this is a story, it could be a tragedy where we both die. It also means we have no influence over our own actions. A person is out there writing us into existence. That’s too depressing to think about considering this creator would also be the one who destroyed our world. A real bastard if you ask me.”
Crossing Bedlam Page 4
