Jimmy ducked down as low as he could and still see to drive. He kept the Bonneville floored as he tried to keep up with his mother. Scott leaned out the window and tried to clear them a path with the .45 caliber he had taken from Tom Dabrowski’s lackey. The angle of leaning out the window and the recoil of the gun sent flames of pain into his chest as they tore at the hole in his shoulder. The Bonneville reached that perfect speed where the shocks could no longer absorb the bumps in the road. They fishtailed as they met the oncoming crowd. Bodies thudded into the side of the car. The impacts absorbed the extra sideways momentum of the car and helped Jimmy as he turned into the slide, just as his grandpa had taught him. He regained control of the car and sped through the crowd. Within seconds they passed through the other side and followed the SUV down the tracks to a better place called elsewhere.
The family followed the tracks for another twenty minutes without seeing anyone else. A picturesque scene greeted them as they crossed the bridge over the Fox River into Geneva. The lazy river ran with a steady serenity that couldn’t be worried with the troubles of the world. Scott wished he could capture that serenity and share it with his family. He watched Jimmy struggle with his conscience after running through the crowd. Jimmy had killed people with the Bonneville, and he knew it. Scott noticed how the boy’s hands shook as he gripped the wheel. “Just keep on driving, Jimmy. You did what you had to do. Just focus on the road. We’ll be safe soon.” He couldn’t tell if his words helped the boy, but Jimmy kept his eyes on the tracks.
Short minutes later, Scott had Jimmy flash the SUV with his headlights and stop the convoy as they approached the Brundige Road crossing, just west of Geneva. The Bonneville pulled up beside the SUV as they left the tracks and pulled onto the pavement. Scott winced in pain as he opened the door and walked over to where his daughter sat, staring down the road from the driver’s side of the SUV. He felt like he had been put through a tenderizer. He had gotten so used to the jarring of the rough tracks under the car that it seemed his body wanted to continue to bounce even though they had stopped. His arm hurt where he had torn open the bullet wound and his legs felt like poorly constituted jelly. Everyone in the SUV sat in silence, trying to soak in the events of the last few hours. “Ok, Sherry, it’s getting dark. We haven’t seen any people for a while, but I don’t want to attract any attention with headlights. With no power on, any lights will be a beacon for anyone to come check us out. We’ll take the lead and find us a spot to camp for the night….” He let his words trail off as he noticed Sherry starring at the same sport on the road. He reached up and touched her strawberry blond hair. She turned and looked at him. Tears stained her cheeks. She bit her bottom lip, reminding Scott of his little girl from years past. She had bit hard enough to draw blood. Scott produced a napkin from his pocket and wiped the semi-dried blood from her chin. “I think you’ve done enough for today, sweetie. Would you like someone else to drive?” Sherry looked up at her dad and nodded. He opened the door and led her to the back. “Jan, get out here and drive.” He ordered as he got Sherry into the back seat. As JJ got out and took the driver’s seat, Scott used the dying sunlight to read the map and check their location with the GPS. “I think we should head over here.” Scott said, pointing to a spot on the map less than a quarter mile north of where they were. “Follow, us.” He said to JJ as he got back in the car with Jimmy.
The Bonneville led the convoy along the road for a little over a quarter of a mile and turned off into a field. The farmer hadn’t had a chance to till it before everything shut down. Tall weeds and grasses covered the ground. Scott looked at the map. There should be a stream somewhere up to the east. He directed Jimmy to drive further into the field and soon found the little stream. Jimmy pulled the car to a stop. The SUV pulled in beside them. Everyone piled out of the cars and came to stand in front of the Bonneville.
“So, what do we do now?” JJ asked.
“We should probably get some sort of sleeping arrangements set up for the night.” Clay said.
“Clay’s right. It’s getting dark. Let’s unpack all of the sleeping stuff and get the food and stuff in the Bonneville sorted and packed better. We can tie some stuff to the top of the truck and get some extra room that way. If we make enough room, we may even be able to sleep in the car if it gets too cold or the weather doesn’t hold.” Scott said.
Everyone walked to the back of the SUV and started unpacking the sleeping bags and blankets they had brought from JJ’s house, everyone but Sherry and Jimmy. Scott noticed them standing in front of the vehicles, looking out at the stream and fields, trapped in a thousand-yard stare. He walked over to talk to JJ and Clay. “Clay, can you take over the unpacking?”
“Sure, Scott. What’s wrong?”
“I think Jan and I need to go check on Sherry and Jimmy. He hasn’t been the same since we ran into the crowd on the tracks. I’m not sure they’re ok with what they had to do. Speaking of what we had to do today, you seem to be holding up pretty well for having shot some people. You sure you’re ok?”
“I’m fine as can be.” Clay said. “Those folks I shot weren’t the first I’ve had to kill in the last couple of weeks. I’m still not comfortable with what I did today, but it’s easier than the first guy. Maybe it’s one of those things that gets easier in time or each time you have to do it.” Scott nodded and motioned for JJ to go to
Sherry. He walked over to talk with Jimmy.
“Hey, bud, you ok?” Scott asked. He could see Jimmy’s hands shaking. The boy just shrugged shoulders. “You only did what you had to do to keep your family safe. You know that, right? You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything you need to feel ashamed about. Those folks would have either killed us for our cars or the food we had. If they didn’t, they would have taken everything we had and left us with nothing. That’d be the same as killing us.”
Jimmy turned to look at his granddad. Scott could see the tears had broken loose. The silence between them drug out, Sherry’s crying into JJ’s chest the only distraction. Finally Jimmy spoke. “I killed them, grandpa. I killed all of those people with the car.” Sobs shook the young man’s frame.
“It’s ok.” Scott whispered. He put his arms around Jimmy and hugged him close. “You only did what you had to do.” As if admitting it had finally made it real, he broke down, sobbing into Scott’s good shoulder.
“But I…killed people.” He said between sobs. “I’m a bad person now. I killed those…” The words cut off as Jimmy reached for his belly and bent over, throwing up what little food he had eaten that day. He kept going until all of the food was gone and the heaves became dry. Scott felt bad for his grandson but could do nothing to help. This was something Jimmy would have to live with, something he would have to overcome. Jimmy finally wore himself out and collapsed to the ground on his knees.
Scott knelt beside him. “Listen to me, boy.” He said in a more forceful tone. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You did what you had to do to protect your family. Even if that means you had to kill some folks, it doesn’t make you a bad person. If anything, it makes you a man. You had a hard choice to make. Would you have been a better person to let those people kill your grandma, your mom, or Lucy?”
“I guess not.” Jimmy said.
“Right, then. You were given a bad situation and did the best you could to protect your family. That’s a good thing. Now you rest up here and try not to let any of this bother you while we unpack everything and get us something to eat. Sound good?” Jimmy nodded. Scott rose and saw Jan still holding Sherry as she continued to cry. He figured she might have a harder time than with it than Jimmy. He had seen the little boy that Sherry had run over when the SUV first met the crowd. He hoped Sherry could forgive herself for that.
Scott walked back to the SUV as Rocks and Lucy emerged from the high weeds after relieving themselves. The dog ran past him and continued over to comfort Jimmy. Scott didn’t care for the mutt, but saw the benefit of having him around just for the c
omfort he gave the grandkids.
Tara walked to meet him as he approached. She stumbled a few feet before they met by the rear passenger’s side door. “You ok, baby? You look a little out of it. When’s the last time you had a shot?”
“Before we left the neighborhood.” She said.
“Have you checked your levels? We may need to get you a shot soon.”
“Can’t check the levels.” She said. “I can’t find my testing stuff. I think we may have left it back in the neighborhood or it got lost along the way. Don’t worry, I’ve had this for twenty years. I know when I need my medicine.”
“Then let’s get back here and get you….” Scott started. She interrupted him by holding up a filled syringe.
“I’ve got it covered.” She said. “Get back there and help with dinner if you can.”
Lucy helped Scott scrounge around in the trunk of the Bonneville until they found the bug-out bag Mr. Perkins had given them. Inside, they found everything they would need for the first few days of their journey: several MRE-style containers of food, a first aid kit, and a water filter. Clay and Leesha went to fill some old, two liter, plastic soda bottles with water from the stream. Scott and Tara set up the camping stove they found in the kit. Fifteen minutes later, everyone gathered between the two vehicles to eat dinner. Jimmy had recovered somewhat. He wasn’t quite back to normal. Scott wondered if he would ever be the same after today. Sherry ate, but she stared into nothing and kept silent. The rest of the group talked a little and made rough plans for how they would get to Alabama.
After dinner, Lucy and Tara broke out a hand-cranked flashlight from the bug-out bag and bandages, needles, and thread from the emergency kit’s first aid package. They cleaned the bullet wound in Scott’s shoulder. Scott tried to remain calm as Lucy stitched him up like Mrs. Gary had taught her back in the neighborhood. He winced every time she stuck the needle in him, but was surprised at what a good job she had done. Clay still had the tube of antibiotic ointment and gave some to Scott. After they applied the fresh bandages, Scott informed everyone that he wanted to leave at first light. They had a long way to go, and who knew what obstacles they would run into. They only had a few weeks’ worth of food and needed to cover as much distance as possible before their food began to run low. Being exhausted from their escape from Chicago, everyone found their sleeping bags or shared blankets.
Scott got up and walked to the front of the Bonneville. He sat on the hood, careful not to sit on any of the bloodstained places donated by the people in the crowd. He fished his pipe and his pouch of tobacco out of his pocket and filled the bowl. He was about to light it when Clay walked up. “Mind if I join you?” The tall man said.
“Not at all. You still got any smokes left?” Scott asked.
“Not a one. I was wondering if I could share your pipe?”
“Certainly.” Scott said as he sucked the flame into the bowl. After a few puffs to build up the smoke, he took a long drag and handed the pipe over to Clay. “It’s the least I could do, you know. I want to thank you for helping look after my family. You’ve been a big help, from helping with the neighborhood guard to helping us get out of there, not to mention shooting the folks in the crowd.”
“Man, it’s me who is thankful for you guys. Without you, we would have probably ended up getting caught in the mobs and would be dead by now. Leesha and I owe you our lives, the way I see it.”
“How is she holding up?” Scott asked.
“She’s still a little rattled, just like the rest of us. Hell, I can’t even believe that things have gone downhill this fast. Less than a month ago, the biggest thing I worried about was online poker tournaments. Now, I’ve lost my whole family and have no idea where we’re going or how we’re going to get there. Shit, I don’t know if we’ll survive another run in like on the tracks. It’s almost…”
“Too much to think about.” Scott said. “Yeah, I feel the same way. Son, you may have lost your family, but I consider you part of ours now. You and Leesha both. We have to stick together to make it. Listen, will you drive the Bonneville tomorrow? I don’t think Jimmy is up to it. He really shouldn’t have been driving today. He did well, but I think it took a lot out of him.”
“He’ll be fine. JJ’s always talking about him at work. He sounds like a tough kid. But yeah, I’ll drive the Bonneville.” The pipe, having been passed back and forth several times, died as Clay took one last drag. He wiped off the stem, tapped out the ashes, and handed it back to Scott. “How much of this stuff do you have left?”
“Not much. The rest of this pouch and one more. It’s probably for the best anyway. They say this shit will kill you. Anyway, I’m off to bed. Thank you for driving tomorrow.” Scott said. He walked over and lay down beside Tara, who was already snoring softly. Clay looked up at the stars for a few minutes before finding his own sleeping spot by Leesha.
Lucy lay awake, having trouble falling asleep. She rolled over on her back, underneath the blankets she shared with her brother, and looked up at the stars. They were so pretty out here with no city lights or fires and smoke to disturb the view. The night was peaceful, except for the soft sound of her mother crying. Lucy stared at the stars and wondered if everything would be ok. She wished on every star that she could see that it would be. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone. She knew the battery was about dead, but maybe she could get a signal. It died seconds after she discovered that she still couldn’t get a signal. She missed her friends. She missed being able to see what everyone was doing on the social media sites. She hadn’t heard from her friends since right after the riots. She hoped they were ok. Crushing loneliness hit her as she realized that she would never have that kind of communication with her friends again, even if they were alive. She couldn’t remember ever not being able to chat with or check the status of her friends with a few quick taps on a keyboard of one type or another. Eventually, the rhythmic sound of her mother’s sobs carried her into sleep. The stars overhead passed slowly by. They didn’t grant any wishes that night.
Everyone moaned and bitched as they stirred awake and made their way out of their bedding shortly after sunrise. None of them were used to sleeping on the hard ground, and their bodies protested with aches and cramps at being put through such torment. It didn’t help that they had spent several hours the previous day being jarred up and down along the train tracks.
Within the hour, they had all made their way down to the stream and washed up a little, filtered more drinking water, and had breakfast. They repacked everything in a much more comfortable arrangement. They packed the sleeping materials into plastic garbage bags that Tara had thought to bring along and tied them to the roof of the SUV. They split the food up and stored some in each vehicle. Clay took command of the Bonneville, where Leesha, Scott, and Jimmy rode with him. Everyone else rode with JJ, who drove the SUV.
With a little less than a quarter of a tank of gas in the SUV, Scott knew they couldn’t make the whole trip in the cars. If gas and food deliveries had been shut down for over two weeks, he doubted they would be able to find anywhere to refill. He knew better than to try the interstates after what they had seen. While it may have been bad in Chicago, they still had to pass several cities that had populations of over 100,000. Those folks would have backed up the roadways surrounding their cities as well. Although it might not be as bad, Scott didn’t want to take the chance. He took the GPS out of the SUV and installed it in the Bonneville. He would ride shotgun with Clay and navigate. “Well, let’s get to it.” Scott called out the passenger’s side window of the Bonneville. He plugged in several waypoints along the GPS route to his brother’s farm in Alabama. He tried his best to keep them away from populated areas. A slight vibration in the Bonneville worried him as they drove off. He hoped the old car would hold up for the trip.
Scott gazed out the window as the convoy made good time down the flat, straight roads. He saw nothing but farmland and a couple of houses, some of which still looked h
abitable, some not. This early in the year, hardly any of the fields had been plowed. He doubted any of them had been planted. He was no farmer, but he had discussed it enough with his brother to know a thing or two about it. Some of the smaller farms might be planted if their owners had stocked up on fuel before everything shut down. Even if they had enough fuel to plow and plant the fields, unless things started flowing again tomorrow, it would take a while to catch up. There wouldn’t be enough fuel left to fertilize, irrigate, and harvest by the end of the season. Scott knew that this fertile soil produced a lot of soybeans and corn. Two things that went into just about everything from cow feed to processed human food. Without those harvest, mass shortages would be a certainty, even if there was a way to transport it all and process it. If. If. If. Too many damned ifs. “If a bullfrog had wings, it wouldn’t bump his ass every time it jumped.” He muttered to himself.
“What’s that?” Clay asked.
“Oh, nothing. I was just looking out at all the fields out there. Just thinking about how they won’t have a harvest this year.”
“I hadn’t even thought of that.” Leesha said from the back seat.
“Yeah, me either, until just now.” Scott admitted. “I just look out there and keep thinking about how broke the chain is.”
Fifty Falling Stars Page 21
