by James Sperl
The remainder of the group climbed from their sitting position on the floor to a kneel.
“We here?” Josh asked.
Catherine turned and stared into the eyes of the equally eager and anxiety-ridden faces. “I think so. We’re about five or so minutes from bailing out. So everybody be ready.”
The group nodded silently to Catherine as she turned back around and trained her attention through the windshield. The first structures began to coast by like ominous ghost ships in the night.
“All right, captain,” Oliver began, “direct me.”
Catherine looked at her map. “Just continue south along North White Sands Boulevard until we hit First Street.”
“Gonna be kind of hard to make out street signs with no lights,” Oliver pointed out.
Catherine spun in place. “Josh,” she said, “hand me my pack.”
Josh scurried over to where Catherine’s pack lay and snatched it up. In one steady movement, he heaved it towards Catherine, she clutching it out of the air. As she did, a peculiar sight struck her, and for a brief moment she began to wonder why Josh had chosen to wear gloves on such a mild evening.
Catherine rummaged in her bag and quickly withdrew a pair of binoculars. She thrust them to her eyes and scanned the road, tried to focus on street signs as they approached.
“They’re a little fuzzy,” she began, “but if we just get a good look at one, we should be able to count our way down.”
The city planning was mercifully straightforward with the majority of the city streets in a grid pattern. They needed to make their way to First Street. From there it was just a handful of turns and then it was everybody off the bus. From what Catherine could make out through the binoculars, they had just past Eleventh Street.
“Seeing anything through those things?” Oliver asked, swallowing hard.
Catherine panned across the chalky black outline of the city. “Nothing that we don’t want to,” she replied. “Coming up on Fifth Street now.”
The rest of the group inched forward. Anything that mattered to them was strapped to their backs or stuffed in their pockets. Catherine urged everyone to be frugal with what they chose to bring reminding them that, just like the bus, more weight equals slower travel time and quicker loss of energy.
Catherine nervously peered at a handful of storefronts as they passed, dim light escaping the covered windows of several. She waited with bated breath, expecting at any moment for a random face to pull back the shade and stare out at her.
But none did. Could it really be this easy?
“There’s First Street, mom,” Abby said from her semi-crouched position, her finger pointed dead ahead.
Catherine raised the binoculars and verified. “Indeed it is. Take that left, Oliver.”
“You got it.”
The bus slowed only marginally, Oliver pulling on the wheel in large quarter turns. The group on the floor slid into the right wall of the bus, their momentum carrying them as the bus changed direction suddenly.
“Sorry, folks,” Oliver said. “Don’t want to slow too much.”
“Why not?” Josh asked.
“The more we slow, the more fuel I’ll have to burn accelerating back up to speed.” Oliver straightened out the wheel. “We’re so close now, hate to have to end up footing it before we—whoa, wait a minute.”
“What is that?” Madeline said, her voice filled with fear. She climbed to her feet, as did everyone else, their eyes trained through the front glass.
“Mommy?” Tamara said quietly.
Catherine saw it too, the binoculars immediately finding her eyes as she sought out the massive, jet-black shape that lay in front of them in the road.
“What the hell is that?” Josh said as he moved up behind his mother.
“Is it them?” Abby muttered.
Catherine pulled the binoculars away. Her thumbnail found its way into her mouth.
“Hit the lights.”
“Excuse me?” Oliver said.
“You heard me. Turn them on.”
Oliver cast a sideways glance, his objection clearly indicated on his face. He reached for the headlight switch. Then he turned on the lights.
“Son of a bitch,” he exclaimed.
Catherine’s heart sank into her stomach. She could feel the cold prickle of dizziness overtake her. She reached for the dashboard with both hands to keep from falling, her mouth a sudden desert of cotton and sand.
Oliver slowed the bus.
“What the hell do we do now?” Josh demanded more than asked as he clutched his rifle. “What do we do?”
Oliver brought the bus to a stop. “The boy raises a good question.” He turned to Catherine. “Hopefully, we’ve got a good answer and soon,” he said checking the gas gauge.
Catherine pushed herself up from the dash, fighting every urge to vomit. Of all the things she had planned to go wrong, the very last thing on her list of possible scenarios lay out on the road in an enormous heap.
Piled no less than twenty feet high and stretching not only across the road, but also over the sidewalks and into the properties that lay adjacent to them, were cars.
Dozens of them.
Stacked with no discernable order or plan, the cars looked as if they had just been dropped into place, allowed to fall where they may. And while Catherine couldn’t be certain, it appeared that not only was the wall of cars high and wide, it looked to run deep as well.
She suddenly had a very bad feeling.
“How’d they even do that?” Shelby asked.
“I don’t know,” Catherine finally managed to say. “But we certainly aren’t sticking around long enough to find out. Back it up, Oliver.”
Without a word, Oliver threw the bus into reverse.
Catherine snatched up the stack of printouts. She flipped through the pages until she came to the street map of Alamogordo. She traced their position on the page with her finger.
“We’ll take South Florida Avenue. Should be the next street directly behind us. We can follow it until we hit Panorama—”
“Mom!” Josh hollered.
Abby screamed.
“Shit!” Oliver yelled.
But Catherine saw it before she heard the first cry of horror, even before she was completely turned around. It was hard to miss.
The light was too bright.
24
The Wall
They were running. The cool night air assaulted their faces as their feet hit the pavement. Behind them, the sounds of motors grew louder and the glow of artificial light more brilliant with each passing second. There was no contingency plan anymore. There was only survival.
“Head into the cars!” Catherine screamed as she clutched Abby and Tamara in each hand. She caught Josh out of the corner of her eye just ahead of her. He was almost to the car wall with Shelby, Madeline and Leanne right behind him. Oliver could be heard huffing from somewhere over Catherine’s shoulder.
She knew what was coming. It was no secret. Yet every curious bone in her body cried out like an itch that needed to be scratched. She had to know. Had to see.
Slowing just enough to turn her head, Catherine wrenched around to catch a glimpse of what was now descending upon her and her family. And as soon as she did, she wished she hadn’t.
Escorted on either side by what looked to be enormous, industrial mining trucks was an even larger contraption she had come to know as a hydraulic excavator. With a single arm that protruded forward, the excavator was a staple among demolition sites. With its ability to destroy as well as recover what it had just crushed in its sizable scoop, the machine was invaluable. The particular model heading in Catherine’s direction, however, had no such scoop. In its place was a monster-sized four “fingered” claw. And if light were better, Catherine would see the evidence of this claw all along the exteriors of the car mountain before her.
As expected, the exteriors of all three vehicles were rigged with a hodge-podge of lighting from the smallest desk
lamp to the largest industrial overhead. How so many lights managed to be procured in a town so small was of great interest to Catherine. Certainly, there was no nearby outlet specializing in full spectrum lighting. Not here. And even if there were, they certainly wouldn’t have on hand the number of lights she saw affixed to the approaching vehicles like some long lost scene from the Road Warrior. But judging by the way the New Humans were moving—agile and spry, not weakened—that must be what they were using. Alternative light types would have left them in a more debilitated state. So where did they come from?
The answer was so simple, so glaring, Catherine didn’t want to believe it. These things communicated. But not just in a primal, basic sense. They had figured out how to reach beyond their milieu and contact others like them. Had discovered that a world beyond their own existed.
And had asked for help.
But why shouldn’t they? If what Warren said was true about New Humans retaining the knowledge base of their host, then it was really just a matter of time before they put two and two together. They were evolving. Learning how to operate that fandangled human machine. Like a teenager given a formula racing car after having just acquired a driver’s license. And nothing could have wobbled Catherine’s knees more.
As soon Catherine she saw the heap of derelict cars from the bus she knew right where the massive barricade had been situated and why. On the other side of the car mound she would wager First Street crossed over a small canal. The barricade had been formed in such a way that there truly was no way to get around it unless they wanted to chance a swim in the water. And with no possible way to judge current swiftness in the dark, the only option seemed like the one she least wanted to attempt. Strategically, it was an ingenious move.
Josh reached the wall and was already scrambling onto a vehicle, pulling Shelby up after him. He then assisted with her mother and Leanne. Once the women were pulled from the street and had begun their climb through the back window of a VW Jetta, Josh turned.
He quickly loosed his rifle and took aim at the machinery moving toward him. Firing off a rapid succession of shots, he watched with satisfaction as several lights mounted to one of the mining trucks exploded. He pulled on his trigger until he was finally met with a click.
“I’m out!” he screamed.
Catherine was almost to the cars. “Drop it and get in there!”
Josh wavered for a moment, then immediately saw the logic in abandoning a useless weapon. He tossed it aside and scuttled into the Jetta.
As she approached the cars, Catherine yanked Tamara forward hoping to use her momentum to launch the girl onto the hood of a smashed Toyota Corolla. A small, trashcan-sized hole lay in front of the windshield, the rest of the opening formed by the truck bed gate of an overturned Ford F150. Space was narrow between the cars and certainly not Catherine’s first preference to climb through them, but what other choice did they have?
Tamara landed on the hood and instinctively scrambled toward the hole, but then hesitated. She turned to face Catherine, a fear Catherine had never seen before simmering in her eyes.
“I know, baby. It’s scary. But you’ve got to go. Now”
“But it’s so dark. I can’t see where I’m—”
“Tamara!” Catherine snapped. “We don’t have time. Climb through!” And without thinking, Catherine shoved Tamara into the hole. She knew this would seem harsh, but she would apologize later. If they were all still around to do so.
Abby was on the hood just behind her sister and needed no prompting to crawl into the hole. Her feet disappeared into the opening as Catherine hopped onto the hood. With a final glance back, she got a complete look at what was narrowing the gap between them. From the trucks and machinery to the mob of New Humans circling about them like mosquitoes to a porch light, Catherine had never seen such a display of power and force. She had also never been more scared in her life.
Following Josh’s example, Catherine pulled her gun from her waist and leveled it at the lights on the excavator. But as much as she wanted to fire every round in the magazine and inflict some sort of damage, she knew it would only be mere drops in the bucket and thought it more prudent to save what ammunition she had left for a more dire situation. It seemed reasonable to suspect that there would most likely be one.
Having seen the approaching horde in all of their menace, and with everyone clamoring through the mass of wrecked vehicles like rats through a junkyard, one thing was absolutely certain: Even if they made it through the cars, they would never escape.
Catherine could hear Josh from what seemed like only a few car lengths away.
“Grab my foot!” came one command, followed by “This way!” and “Over here!” Seemingly in charge of his situation, Catherine had no reservations as to Josh’s effectiveness at getting everyone to safety. She did, however, harbor a few doubts for her own.
It was impossibly dark among the cars, the only way to move forward by feeling blindly for passages. On more than one occasion Catherine felt herself grab a broken window or a sharpened piece of folded metal as she scurried over and under the maze of vehicles. Her hands were slick with what she could only assume was blood since no overpowering aroma of fuel or antifreeze met her nostrils when she smelled her palm.
Tamara was crying and Abby began to develop claustrophobia at the most inopportune moment. She could only imagine what injuries they had sustained, but she couldn’t help that now. Behind her she could hear Oliver struggling to squeeze through narrow channels between the cars, each movement met with a chorus of grunts and curses.
“Mommy, I can’t see!” Tamara cried, her sniffling audible.
“I know, baby,” Catherine said, “but you’ve got to keep moving. Keep looking for a way.”
“I can’t.”
“You have to try!”
The motors of the trucks and excavator were loud enough that Catherine found herself shouting to respond. Flickers of light began to dance off the interior of the car heap now, glinting sporadically like a strobe light as if teasing the trapped occupants with glimpses of a possible freedom.
They were close.
“I need to get out of here, mom,” Abby said fearfully.
“We’re trying, kiddo. Just keep going.”
“I’m serious. I’m gonna flip out. I’m gonna flip out! The cars are gonna crush us!”
In a perfect world, Catherine would have taken the time to assess and assuage any fears that arose in her children. But this world was far from perfect, and she couldn’t rationalize how inanimate, stationary cars could present more of a horrific scenario then the several hundred New Humans assailing them from mere yards away.
“Look,” she screamed, “everybody get a goddamned grip! We are under attack. Do you all understand that? If we don’t get out of here we are all going to die. Now everybody shut the hell up and move. Now!”
Tamara continued to cry. Abby whimpered. Oliver huffed and puffed. But they were all moving.
The light, although feared for what was held in its proximity, was also a bit of a blessing. For what was initially a maze of blackened shapes in a black room, had now become increasingly more obvious as light played off the glass and reflective metals. It was a trade off, Catherine knew, but one she was willing to make at the moment.
Spying a sizable hole alongside the silhouette of Abby, Catherine pushed past her daughter into the passenger seat of a Chevy Bronco. The cab was surprisingly intact and Catherine thought she could see the blessed sight of moonlight through the driver’s side window and beyond.
“Follow me. Everyone this way,” Catherine commanded. “Abby grab your sister.”
Oliver’s voice sounded in between labored breaths. “You know where you’re going?”
Catherine had never heard a more stupid or inane question in her life. “Yeah, Oliver. I think so,” she panted. “Let me just consult my map and make sure.”
Catherine could hear Oliver chuckle a little as she scurried into the driver’s s
eat. There was still glass in the door window so she kicked the rest of it out. Thrusting her head through, she searched for the next chess move in this literal game of life.
“Josh, where are you?” she screamed.
Josh’s voice came back, clear and nearby. “Over here,” he called. “I think I can see the street on the other side. I think we’re almost through.”
Catherine squinted in the dark, trying to block out the light from the encroaching machines, it playing with her depth perception. Her heart fluttered at what she saw and the feeling could only be described as one thing: hope.
“I think I see it too!” she cried. For dead ahead, no less than three car lengths away was the unmistakable image of light on pavement.
“Mom?” Josh said.
Catherine twisted herself to look in the direction of his voice and found a head poking out of another vehicle.
“Josh, that you?”
“I hope so,” he replied.
Catherine smiled briefly. “Everyone still with you?”
He vanished for a second then reappeared. “Yeah, we’re all still here.”
Catherine searched frantically for her next move. While the light had been beneficial in discovering space, it unfortunately couldn’t help out in the actual creation of it. Currently fifteen feet off the ground, Catherine twisted and turned, desperately seeking any path or nook through which she could safely move everyone forward.
