The Road North

by Phillip D Granath

  “What are you doing?” Miles demanded.

  “We need to see what she can do with all three of us onboard and for how long she can do it,” Kyle replied.

  “Is that wise? What if you break something?”

  “Maybe not, but if she is going to fail, I want her to do it now and not while we are getting shot at,” Kyle shouted back,

  “Besides, let's take advantage of the open road while we have it and make up some time.”

  Behind them, Coal stood gripping the roll bar with both hands and grinning broadly as the wind sent his long hair flapping in the breeze. Suddenly the bounty-hunter let out a shout of pure joy, something between a shriek and a battle cry that was loud enough to make Miles jump in his seat. Coal’s feeling of exhilaration was infectious, and Kyle began to laugh, not only at Coal but at the relief he now felt. For better or for worse the decision had been made, and now only the desert and their task lay in front of them, for Kyle that somehow seemed like a relief.

  The buggy and its three passengers quickly left the town behind and began to steadily shrink from view until only the dust of their passing remained visible on the horizon. A young boy watched that dust cloud for a time, sitting in the shade of one of the abandoned buildings the men had passed by. He waited until he was certain no other white men were following after them. Then the boy led his pony out of the ruined building, before mounting up and riding east.

  Fast and Dangerous

  Kyle, Coal, and Miles drove west, pushing the buggy hard for more than an hour. The roadway was mostly clear, except for the occasional rusting remains of a vehicles. These seemed to come along in small clusters as they would find two or three pulled just off of the road together. Over the years the wrecks had blocked the wind and allowed drifts of sand to form covering the roadway in several feet of sand. As they reached a particularly sizeable drift, Kyle slowed and pulled the buggy off of the road, keeping the rusting hulks at a distance.

  “Keep a sharp eye out,” Coal said, unshouldering his rifle, “raiders love to use wrecks like these as cover to jump passersby.”

  At Coal’s words, Miles held his borrowed shotgun a bit tighter, and Kyle pulled the magnum from his shoulder holster and laid it on his lap. But designed to handle the surface of Mars, the buggy made short work of the drifting sand, and they cleared the group of wrecks without incident.

  “Why are they always clustered together like that?” Kyle asked.

  “The night of the event, anyone that was out driving pulled over so they could watch the sky. If you think about it, it probably saved a lot of lives when everything suddenly stopped,” Miles explained.

  “Yeah, unless you pulled over in the middle of fucking nowhere like those people did. Then all you had to look forward to the next day was a long walk under a hot sun and dying of thirst,” Coal pointed out.

  As they cleared the last of the drift and the pavement came back into view again, Kyle guided the buggy back up onto the roadway. The scavenger accelerated again, and soon the rusting vehicles were left far behind them, but as he drove, Kyle couldn’t help himself from thinking about Coal’s words. Kyle’s father had been a Highway Patrolmen and had been on duty the night of the event. He had never made it home, and Kyle had often wondered what had happened to him. Kyle had been forced to accept all of those years ago that his father was dead, but as a boy, he had always assumed that he had been killed in a car wreck or perhaps caught up in the nightmarish days of fear and violence that followed. For the first time Kyle was forced to wonder, did his father die like the people in those cars? Stranded miles from the nearest town with no water and waiting for help that would never come?

  “Are you alright?” Miles asked.

  Kyle glanced towards the passenger seat and found the old man clutching the shotgun in one hand and trying to shield his mouth from the flying dust with the other. Under any other circumstances, Kyle would have found the scene amusing. The scavenger took a breath and shook his head, trying to shake the unpleasant thoughts from his mind.

  “I’m fine,” he replied quickly.

  Miles lowered his hand from his mouth to speak again, but Kyle beat him to it.

  “So, how does the desert taste? Kinda gritty? I hope you packed a toothbrush,” he said, forcing a smile.

  Coal laughed loudly behind them, and Miles' eyes looked at him accusingly, before quickly turning away. Kyle couldn’t help but feel just a bit guilty for giving the old man a hard time, he knew that Miles was undoubtedly uncomfortable and hadn’t yet complained. But the thought of his father, wandering out in the desert and dying, perhaps on this very road had taken him by surprise. How many years had it been since he had even thought of his dad? Why was he thinking of him now he wondered?

  The trio followed the road west through the remainder of the morning and on into the early afternoon. For the most part, the road was flat and straight with only a few sections washed out or buried by drifts of sand. In these areas, Kyle was forced to take the buggy off-road and carefully guide the vehicle around the worst of the damage. There was very little terrain that the buggy couldn’t handle, but each detour slowed them down.

  Around midday, they crested a small rise and received their first glimpse of what remained of the suburban sprawl that surrounded Phoenix. Miles pulled the map from his bag and after consulting it for a moment began pointing towards the distance.

  “This whole range is part of the Superstition Mountains. That’s Apache Junction ahead, then Mesa and Scottsdale after that,” Miles said.

  “It always seemed strange to me, how all you white people always want to live so close together. Look at that, that’s three whole towns so close together you can’t tell where one stops, and the next one starts,” Coal pointed out.

  “It’s actually more than that, Tempe, Glendale, Peoria, more than a dozen,” Miles replied looking at the map intently.

  “People just wanted their own space,” Kyle pointed out.

  “Yeah, well now the problem is you have too much space and not enough people, but you’re all still living in that same shitty little town back there.”

  Kyle grinned and replied, “Last I checked you were living in that same shitty town.”

  “Yeah, what can I say, I’m just an Indian that’s down on my luck and slumming with you all.”

  “Gentleman, as amusing as these borderline racist discussions are, we had better get moving if we are going to be clear of this place by nightfall,” Miles said.

  Kyle looked at Miles and then back at Coal, the bounty-hunter grinned and just shook his head.

  “Miles there is no way we can get north of Phoenix by dark,” he said.

  “What? We’re only about 10 miles from Interstate 17 now. I know the streets may be blocked, especially downtown, but I’m sure we can find a way through.”

  “I thought the plan was to reach Salt Lake and not be served up as the main course at some fucking cannibal’s barbecue,” Coal said.

  “Cannibals?” Miles replied.

  “It’s a gruesome little story, and Coal can tell you all about it some night around the campfire, but for right now we’re going to hug the base of the mountains and do our best to avoid drawing any attention to ourselves.”

  “That’ll mean slowing down and trying to keep from kicking up too much dust Tonto. Also, we should run until after dark, then find a place to hold up. Make it harder for anybody that does see us from a distance to figure out where we went,” Coal advised.

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  Without another word, Kyle threw the buggy into gear and guided them off of the pavement and towards the base of the Superstition Mountains to the north. The scavenger cut a rough trail across the rocky desert, driving through a series of shallow washes and clusters of scrub brush, after the relative speed of the pavement Kyle couldn’t help but feel like they were now moving at a snail’s pace. The terrain became increasingly difficult to navigate as the land began to steadily rise ahead of them. Then just when K
yle thought that they would be forced to turn east and risk the streets of Apache Junction, they came across a gravel road.

  “Hold up Tonto,” Coal called out.

  Kyle pulled to a stop just short of the road and Coal leaped from the back of the buggy with his rifle in hand. The bounty-hunter walked ahead of them clearing the brush line and stepping out onto the gravel road. Coal looked to his left and then his right, then Kyle watched as the set of the man’s shoulders shifted slightly and he froze.

  “What’s going on?” Miles whispered.

  “Shut up!” Kyle hissed wondering the same thing himself.

  The two men sat in the buggy watching as the half-breed stood motionless. Kyle could just see the man’s face and his eyes looked distant but if he was staring at something Kyle couldn’t see what. Miles held the shotgun up and at the ready gripping the gun tight enough to make his knuckles turn white. As the moment stretched into minutes, Kyle couldn’t help but feel the tension rise as well, and his hand found the grip of his Magnum resting in his shoulder holster. Finally, Coal’s body went slack again, and he turned, giving Kyle a causally smile before resting the rifle on his shoulder.

  “Well come on then,” he said, motioning the buggy forward.

  Miles and Kyle each let out a breath, and then Kyle put the buggy in gear and carefully pulled forward onto the gravel road. Coal didn’t wait for the buggy. Instead he started walking down the road towards the west, Kyle followed him but found that the bounty-hunter wasn’t going far. Coal stopped at the edge of the road not 50 yards later.

  “Come on down here and take a look at this Tonto, tell me what you think,” he said.

  Kyle jumped down from the buggy and moved to stand next to his friend at the edge of the road. He found Coal staring down at several lengths of guardrail resting at the bottom of a steep embankment, perhaps 20 feet down.

  “Scavs been at work here,” Coal said.

  Kyle looked from the lengths of abandoned guard railing to his friend and then back again.

  “Really? If so it looks like they missed something.”

  “I’m not talking about the railing scavenger,” he replied.

  Kyle blinked and then looked again, but this time it took him but a moment to realize what Coal was referring too. A series of deep furrows had been cut into the embankment, each running down from the roadway. They almost looked like signs of erosion, but they were set to evenly to be anything but man-made.

  “Holy shit, they dug out the wooden posts holding up the guardrail.”

  “Looks that way,” Coal replied.

  “Does that mean someone has been here recently,” Miles shouted from the buggy.

  “No, it’s old, a few months or more. But if you keep shouting I’m sure someone will be coming right along,” Coal shouted back.

  “Why the fuck would anybody go through all that trouble?” Kyle asked.

  “You’re the scavenger, you tell me.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense, cutting them would be fairly easy, but digging out the whole thing? Those posts had to go down another three or four feet at least,” Kyle pointed out.

  “So what? More wood means better trade right?”

  “Yeah, but think about all of the labor involved, not to mention the water you would burn up digging all these out. There is no way it would be worth it, not for trade,” Kyle replied.

  “Well, I think the great Phoenix wood mystery is going to have to wait. One because I think this road was an access road or something and looks to be headed in the same direction we are. And two, well, because I really just don’t give a fuck.”

  With a nod, Coal turned and climbed back onboard the buggy leaving Kyle to stand at the edge of the road a moment longer. The scavenger gave the sections of abandoned guardrail another long look and then shook his head before climbing back behind the wheel. The trio followed the gravel road for some time, keeping a cautious pace and trying to keep the dust from the buggy’s passing to an absolute minimum. Thankfully the road itself was sheltered from view by thick clusters of sagebrush on the left keeping their passing concealed from the ruined suburbs of Apache Junction now barely 100 yards away.

  “Are we so certain following this road is such a good idea?” Miles asked.

  The old man kept looking towards the west, watching as the sun continued to settle lower on the horizon with each passing hour.

  “It may not be faster, but it’s definitely safer than the surface streets,” Kyle replied.

  “What’s wrong Miles, scared of the dark?” Coal asked.

  “I don’t know exactly what you two are going on about, with this talk of cannibals. But I think it’s safe to say that I don’t relish the idea of spending a night out here in the open.”

  “I can’t disagree with you on that one,” Kyle admitted, “What do you think Coal, how much daylight do we have left?”

  “An hour, maybe,” the half-breed replied.

  “Then let’s try and find us a spot to hold up for the night.”

  Coal dismounted and shouldering his rifle, he began walking ahead of the buggy again as Kyle and Miles followed slowly behind. Occasionally, the bounty-hunter would pause for a moment to peer through the brush before eventually moving on again. Finally after about half an hour and with the shadows starting to lengthen at an alarming rate Coal raised a fist signaling for the vehicle to stop and then slipped off of the roadway and into the brush.

  Coal moved through the brush like a ghost, keeping his rifle shouldered and preferring to keep his hands free, one of which now rested on the hilt of his saber. He reached the edge of the sage and found only 50 yards of open desert separating him and the back wall of a small subdivision. There Coal paused, crouching down he closed his eyes listening carefully to the sounds of the early evening. As a boy hunting on the Res, he had been taught that your ears were more valuable than your eyes when it came to stalking game. By the time Coal had grown into a man, he had learned that the same truth applied even more so when stalking men.

  Hearing nothing unusual Coal stood, he glanced in both directions and then walked confidently out into the open. This was one trick he had learned himself, when there is nowhere to hide, don’t try and hide, simply act as if you belong. If anyone were watching the brush line, they would see a man that looked as if he belonged here and perhaps mistake him for someone that was supposed to be there, another guard perhaps, just returning from taking a piss. Coal crossed the narrow stretch desert and paused next to the long stucco wall running the length of the back of the subdivision. He forced himself to listen quietly, and when he heard nothing unusual, no sounds that he had been discovered, the bounty-hunter began moving down the wall, heading toward a series of openings.

  Coal reached the first break in the wall, where he found a pair of rusty hinges set into the stucco. The bounty-hunter guessed that a wooden gate use to hang across the opening, but had been torn down long ago. The bounty-hunter peeked around the edge of the wall and found that it led directly into the backyard of a large stucco home. The grass in the backyard was long dead and a once impressive swimming pool was now dry and filled with tumbleweeds. Coal considered the place for a moment and then noted that above each window was stained with dark soot, he shook his head and then crossing the opening and moved further down the wall.

  After checking three more homes, Coal finally found one that he thought would suit them and with the last rays of the sun beginning to slip away, he turned and made his way back towards the buggy.

  “I think I found us a place,” Coal called out from the darkness.

  “Damn it Coal!” Miles hissed as he jumped in his seat.

  Kyle reached over and pushed the barrel of Miles shotgun down and away from him.

  “Damn it Miles,” he hissed, before turning to Coal. “Does it have room to hide the buggy?” Kyle asked.

  “Plenty and we won’t have to sleep in the open. Just keep it slow, follow me and leave the lights off.”

  With that C
oal turned and walked back through a gap in the brush as Miles and Kyle followed behind driving the buggy at a crawl. The bounty-hunter led them through the brush, and at times the man’s darker outline against the shadows was all that Kyle had to guide him. The group broke from the cover of the brush and Kyle was surprised to find just how close to the suburbs they had come. Coal led them down a long wall and then through a gap and into what had at one time been the backyard of an expensive home.

  “Back into the corner where no one can see it if they just happen by,” Coal advised.

  Kyle nodded and throwing the buggy into reverse did as Coal instructed before he and Mile dismounted.

  “Where will we sleep?” Miles asked rubbing at his sore leg.

  “Inside, second floor,” Coal replied nodding towards the house.

  “Shouldn’t we stay close to the buggy, just in case?” Miles asked.

  “We will have a good vantage point to see her from up there,” Coal replied, gesturing to the second floor of the house.

  “And a clean shot. If anybody does come along they are going to be focused on the buggy and not the house,” Kyle added.

  Wiping away an imaginary tear, Coal whispered, “They grow up so quick.”

  The three men moved across the dead lawn and into the house as quietly as they could. The interior looked much like any of the abandoned houses that Kyle had once scavenged back home. Everywhere he looked he saw the broken remnants of a family that once lived there. Photos still hung on a few of the walls, most too faded and covered with dust to even see the family underneath. A massive T.V. still hung on the wall, its screen cracked and its edges melted, another casualty of the event. In the kitchen, all of the cabinets had been torn from the walls, and not a stick of wood remained, leaving the floor covered in a thick layer of broken plates.