The Road North

by Phillip D Granath

  “Steady now girl,” he whispered.

  As the tower filled, the worrisome sounds seem to diminish as if Miles presence alone had a calming effect on the rusted tower. Running at full capacity, it took nearly four and half hours to top off the aging water tower, now holding nearly 20,000 gallons of precious water. Work parties began arriving just after first light each group carrying plastic drums, old feed troughs and a variety of large plastic containers suitable for holding drinking water. The council had considered using Coal’s horses for the move, but after much debate, it was decided that taking advantage of the surplus of labor, provided by the newly established court system would suffice. As an added benefit the workers, having labored all day to transport the heavy tanks to various points across town would help bolster the council’s agreed upon cover story; the establishment of the new “Water Distribution Sites.”

  Miles stepped forward and rested a hand on the pump’s flange, the rusted metal was still warm to the touch, but nothing a set of thick gloves couldn’t handle.

  Eager to start Miles announced simply, “It’s time.”

  Then with the help of Juan, the old man lowered himself down to his knees and taking a large wrench, he went to work on the ancient bolts. The small group of “Grease Monkeys” the men Miles had trained to help him perform the usual maintenance on the machine stood by watching anxiously. The old man knew that perhaps every one of them was better suited to the task, but Miles felt this was his solemn duty. After all, he had been the one to sacrifice a functioning knee in the struggle to drag the beast across town, followed by years of his life keeping her running under both Murphy and the Council. He would be damned if he handed over the reins of the project now. Keeping with Miles’s experience in all things mechanical, the first six bolts came away easily, while the last two had to be cut away with a hacksaw. Miles relented at that point, allowing first Juan and then the Grease Monkey’s to work the saw and cut away the troublesome bolts.

  Once the bolts were cut away, and the piping removed the newly constructed flange was brought forward, the piece would allow a length of fire hose to be attached to fill containers at ground level. The flange went into place with ease and Miles couldn’t help but smile, at least that went according to plan.

  “Get her fired back up,” Miles called.

  A small cheer went up from the gathered men as the Grease Monkeys sprang into motion. Within a few minutes, the firebox was relit, and Miles’ men stood by eager to feed the growing flames. While the heat and with it the pressure built, the Black Jackets, directed by Sergeant Jasper, guided the work crews into something resembling an orderly line ready to receive the water. It took nearly 30 minutes before the required pressure was reached, during which time Miles eyes never left the pump’s trembling gauge. The pump gave a faint gurgle just a moment before the precious water began to flow, from the newly attached flange and the hose was quickly attached. Miles let out a sigh of relief, just as he had predicted pumping the water just to ground level and not up the extra 150ft to the tower saved them nearly 40 lbs. of pressure, it wasn’t much in the scheme of things, but at this point Miles wanted the old girl to get every advantage that she could.

  As the containers were filled, the work crews and their Black Jacket escorts began carrying them out of the compound destined for the various places around town. Miles knew many of them would make multiple trips today, and he didn’t envy them their task.

  “Juan, watch the pump, I’ll be back in a few hours,” Mile said.

  The boy looked up at his adopted father, his eyes and his mouth wide with shock.

  Miles couldn’t help but grin at the boy’s reaction. Since the day the council retook the pump, he had never allowed it to be fired or to run without being present.

  “Who else would I trust?”

  Juan’s face broke into a large smile, and he nodded eagerly.

  “Besides who do you think is going to run her when I’m gone on this trip?” he added.

  The boy’s smile disappeared again, and Miles realized this was perhaps the first time the boy had considered that he wouldn’t be going north with Miles. The look of disappointment and fear, read so plainly on the boy’s face that the old man’s heart skipped a beat. With a grimace, Miles lowered himself down to kneel before Juan and took the boy into his arms.

  “You have nothing to worry about son. Coal and Kyle are going with me, between them they know everything there is to know about surviving out there, we will be fine.”

  “We are fucked,” Coal said, not for the first time.

  “So, business as usual then?” Kyle remarked.

  The two men stood next to the buggy just outside of the clinic and under the shade of a section of canvas. While Miles had focused on preparing the town for their departure, Kyle and Coal focused on getting ready for the trip itself. The tasks had managed to keep Miles and Kyle busy and separate, neither man yet willing to make amends for their violent exchange.

  “I’m telling you Pale face, following a road, any road, is just asking to get bushwhacked,” Coal said again.

  “That’s true, but following a roadway like Interstate 17 or hell, even Route 60 would take us north the fastest. Besides with the buggy, we should be able to outrun anyone we run across out there,” Kyle pointed out.

  “I’ve never been that far north, but one thing is for sure, the harder the land is, the harder the men that hunt it. That means that there is going to be some bad hombres waiting out there, men that make these mean streets look like fucking Mayberry. And remember, every damn bridge, crossroad and fucking blind turn on your roadway is just a death trap waiting to happen!”

  “So, you want to cut across in open country then? The whole way?”

  “It would be a hell of a lot safer is all I’m saying.”

  “And take a hell of a lot longer, that’s the time the town may not have and water that we can’t afford to carry,” Kyle pointed out.

  “I know it, but how does us getting shot to pieces and then eaten by fucking raiders going to help the town?”

  Kyle shook his head, when he was a kid, a trip like this would have taken a weekend, but now it was a serious, perhaps even a suicidal undertaking. He rubbed his eyes again in frustration and looked back down at the map laid out across the buggy’s hood. It was a relic of the past, a time when the land could be divided by clear and distinctive lines, just a series of states, counties, and towns separating them from Salt Lake, but the reality was that none of that meant anything anymore. Most of the towns on the map died along with the electric pumps that brought them water from deep underground.

  “How long do you think the crossing will take us?” Kyle asked

  “600 some odd miles, on horseback I can cover about 25 miles a day so that would be what? Like…2 weeks? Maybe? Give or take,” Coal said scratching his head.

  Kyle paused, quickly doing the math in his head before blurting, “Wait you mean more like a month, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Coal said with a nod.

  “Coal that’s a hell of a big difference!”

  “What can I say?” Coal replied with a shrug. “I’m not big on maps or math.”

  “So, let’s assume we get 8 hours a day of good daylight, and we can average 25 an hour, that should put us in Salt Lake in three days. Figure a day, maybe two to find the parts that Miles needs and then we turn around and come back. That means we need enough water for about eight days.”

  “Half a gallon a day for 3 people, 8 days, that’s…15 gallons,” Coal said with a smile and a nod.

  “Or maybe 12,” Kyle offered.

  “Fuck! I’m just hungover, ask me another one,” Coal replied.

  Kyle smiled and shook his head, “We should probably figure on 20 gallons, just in case.”

  “20 Gallons? And how much does that much water weigh Kyle?” Miles’s asked.

  The scavenger turned to find the old man leaning on his crutch just inside of the clinic’s doorway. Kyle grima
ced and then turned back to look down at the map again.

  “20 gallons at 8 lbs. a gallon Kyle, that’s…,” Miles began

  “120 lbs.!” Coal shouted triumphantly.

  Miles blinked twice, “its 160lbs.”

  “Fuck you white people and your math!” Coal mumbled under his breath.

  The old man made his way painfully over to lean against the buggy before continuing. “It’s too much weight, we just can’t afford it.”

  “Can’t afford it? It’s going to seem like the most valuable thing in the whole damn world if we run out halfway across the god damned desert,” Kyle snapped.

  “Its simple math,” Miles began.

  “No, no more math!” Coal objected.

  “The buggy was only designed to carry two people, and we are going to be carrying three. We need to make up for the extra weight somewhere.”

  “We’ve carried a whole hell of a lot more than that hauling the wagon back in forth across town,” Kyle pointed out.

  “I know you have. In short trips and on a flat paved surface, but you‘ve never done it for hours on end while crossing rough terrain. I don’t know how much we’re going to lose on the battery life, but I guarantee you we are going to lose something, we may get 8 hours of sun a day, but we may not be able to run a full 8 hours.”

  “I don’t even know why I bother Miles, it seems like you have already made up your fucking mind, again. So, how much water you planning that we take then?”

  “10 gallons, I figure two 5 gallon buckets secured to the rear cargo bench would do, and it would also give Coal a nice makeshift seat.”

  The cargo bench that Miles was referring too was little more than a narrow flat section on the rear of buggy’s body, lined with a half dozen small tie-down points. It was apparently intended to secure extra equipment or perhaps rock samples during lunar missions. Coal had found it an excellent place to stand while holding on to the carbon fiber roll bar. He said it gave him a better view while making him look cool in the process.

  “Don’t you worry about my comfort none old man. If I were worried about comfort I’d be staying here,” the half-breed said.

  “That doesn’t give us much leeway, in case anything goes wrong,” Kyle pointed out.

  “It doesn’t, but remember we know exactly where the parts for the pump are supposed to be. Either the exhibit is still there and still intact, or it’s not, and we turn around and come straight back.”

  “Well I guess that settles the question as to which route we are taking,” Kyle said, turning to look at Coal. “Fast and dangerous it is.”

  The three men spent the rest of the afternoon preparing the buggy for the trip. Under Miles’s close scrutiny Coal begrudgingly crawled under the vehicle to adjust and tighten the suspension system where needed. The old man sat in the shade of the canopy with the vehicle’s manual open in his lap, reading the torque requirement for each bolt aloud and then demanding Coal repeat them back him. Throughout the process, Coal entertained himself by replying with an insult, repeating back a different number or by simply ignoring Miles entirely until the old man was forced to shout out the measurements a dozen times or more.

  Kyle crouched nearby, all of the gear that the three men would be taking north with them lay spread out on a tarp in front of him. The scavenger looked from the equipment to the carefully written list that Miles had given him, frowning. He could see Miles’ obsession with cutting weight reflected everywhere. Their party would carry no bedrolls, no lantern, or even a change of clothing. Kyle had carried more creature comforts with him on his solo excursions into the wastes, back when he had to carry everything on his back. The only area it seemed that Miles list hadn’t neglected was tools, which filled a heavy canvas sack. The scavenger lifted the bag and grunted, immediately surprised at its weight. Without a second thought, Kyle upended the bag of tools on to the tarp in a metallic clatter and began to rifle through them.

  “Kyle, what are you doing? Please be careful with those things,” Miles called out.

  Ignoring the old man, the scavenger sorted through the pile with an experienced eye.

  “Looks to me like you have got a lot of redundant tools here we. I count four types of spanner wrenches; a couple sets of pliers and a few other things I think we could do without.”

  Climbing painfully to his feet and leaning on his crutch Miles quickly moved to join the younger man.

  “If we find a pump, then I’m going to need all of those things to disassemble it. All of those tools have a very specific purpose,” Miles said.

  In reply Kyle held up two of the spanner wrenches and held them together, they matched perfectly.

  “Try again old man, some of these are the exact same wrench.”

  “Some of them are extra, in case one breaks,” Miles admitted.

  “No, absolutely not,” Kyle’s said, “You take one of whatever you need and nothing more. If you break something, then we’ll just have to improvise. You said it yourself, weight needs to be a priority on this run.”

  Miles scowled, and his eyes shifted down to the pile of his precious tools. He nodded slowly and then said, “I’ll see what I can do without.”

  Kyle nodded knowing that Miles wasn’t one to easily admit his mistake and began to turn away. Then the scavenger paused and looking down at the list again and said, “And Miles, I don’t see a first aid kit anywhere on your list here.”

  Miles paused in his sorting for a moment and then shrugged, “It must have skipped my mind,” he said.

  “Well that’s a no-go right there, we’re bringing along some kind of medical supplies, I don’t care if it needs to ride in your goddamn lap. I did have a pretty handy trauma kit that would have worked perfectly,” Kyle paused to look in Coal’s direction before shouting, “but somebody broke it!”

  Coal was still underneath the buggy and shouted back in reply, “I was using it to save your life! Isn’t that what it’s for?”

  Kyle shook his head, “Miles, you get the tool situation under control. I’m going to go see what Anna can spare us.”

  The scavenger stood and headed for the clinic leaving Miles to sort through his assortment of tools. Kyle hadn’t forgiven the old man, at least not yet, but he was beginning to realize just how hopeless the engineer’s trip north would have been without them. And along with it, he was starting to understand why Miles pulled out all of the stops trying to convince them to come along. Miles was no pushover, even crippled Kyle didn’t doubt that he could hold his own in a fight, but the hardships they would face in the wasteland would be something new to the old man entirely.

  Kyle pushed in through the clinic doors and as usual, he found the benches in the entryway crowded with waiting patients. The borderline frantic pace of the clinic had become such a part of their lives now, that when Kyle found his wife sitting quietly on her stool in a quiet corner, he became immediately concerned.

  “Anna, what’s wrong?” he asked.

  His wife turned and looked up at him her face wearing a frown.

  “Look at this!” she demanded, gesturing around the room.

  Kyle looked around in confusion and found that, as usual, all of the patient’s beds were occupied and to his surprise, three more cots had been set up since this morning. As he watched the scene, he suddenly realized that a nurse was examining, talking to or otherwise caring for every patient.

  “Wait, where did all these people come from?” Kyle asked.

  “Its Little Bird, she went and told the council about my little fainting spell. Now she has them convinced that I’m overworked and that if they didn’t get me some extra help the town would soon find themselves short a doctor. So, they took it upon themselves to drum up anyone they could find with medical experience and are promising them extra water rations to help us.”

  Kyle looked from the busy room down to his wife and then back again.

  “And that’s a bad thing?”

  Anna paused for a moment to chew on her lip as if
considering, “No, but I still don’t like it.”

  Kyle couldn’t stop himself from smiling. Anna had complained about the lack of space, beds and help since the first day they opened the clinic’s doors. Now she had all of those things, and she still wasn’t satisfied. Anna turned to look back up at him, her face still wore the frown, but he could tell that she was now fighting to keep it from turning into a smile of her own.

  “Well if you need something to keep you busy sweetheart, I do have something I could use your help with,” Kyle said.

  One of Anna’s eyebrows raised higher than the other, and she looked at him skeptically, “Again?” she said.

  Kyle laughed in reply, “That’s not the kind of help I had in mind, but who knows, we’ll see where the afternoon takes us.”

  Anna and Kyle found a small plastic box and went about filling it with a small selection of medical supplies for their trip. In truth, he didn’t need his wife’s help, and Anna knew it, but Kyle enjoyed working next to her. They didn’t talk much and when they did it was about the trip ahead or the supplies they were preparing, but Kyle was just happy to be around her again. After so many months of living like strangers, it was if he had just returned home from one of his scavenging trips out in the wastes like they had been separated though they lay next to one another every night.

  While the new staff was certainly making things easier for Anna, she was still the only doctor, and she was called away several times to answer questions, talk to patients or look at the more worrisome cases. Kyle didn’t mind it, in fact, he began to enjoy the little interludes when she was pulled away. During these moments, Kyle found himself frequently glancing over at her when she didn’t know he was watching and more often than not, his eyes would slide down to her swollen stomach. She looked up at him once and smiled before he quickly looked away.