Pushing On

by Ryan Westfield

“West,” said John. “Where else? Follow my brother. What do you say, Derek and Sarah? Want to join us? There’s strength in numbers, even out on the road.”

  Derek and Sara looked at each other. They were one of those couples that could communicate with a single glance.

  They both looked back at John and nodded together.

  “We’ll come,” said Derek. “But we don’t know for how long.”

  “And we know some trails that might be helpful,” said Sara.

  “Good, we’ll start the preparations now. We’ll leave tonight. As soon as we can.”

  “Tonight?” said Cynthia. “Why not tomorrow morning? Early.”

  “Who knows when they’ll come,” said John. “We might already be too late.”

  7

  Miller

  Miller was barreling down the dirt road in his SUV. He must have been going at least 80 MPH.

  There was a turn up ahead. A tough curve, even at slower speeds.

  He didn’t slow down. He was too intent on getting there, on exacting his revenge, that he could barely wait. He could barely contain himself. He was going to make his life worth something. He was going to do what he had to do.

  He took the turn too hard. Too fast.

  The SUV skidded to the side. Miller lost control. The rear tires lost traction, sliding sideways, the rear of the vehicle veering across the asphalt.

  “Shit,” shouted Miller as he pulled on the wheel hard, trying to regain control.

  Frantic images flashed through his mind, images of his immediate future. He saw himself lying on the side of the road, bleeding from his injuries. He no longer cared about himself or his well being. Certainly not his health.

  As far as he was concerned, his life was no more.

  But his purpose. His goal.

  If he couldn’t do it, if he couldn’t kill this man Kor. If he couldn’t make them pay, then it was all for nothing.

  At the last moment, Miller regained control of the SUV. He didn’t look behind him. He didn’t know how close he’d come to slamming into a tree. He didn’t want to know. All he wanted to do was continue forward. Complete his mission. Kill Kor. And whoever else he could.

  Miller forced himself to slow down as he headed south. He knew that it was better to go slow and steady. For now.

  He glanced over at the passenger seat. Normally, his wife would have sat there. In her place, there was no one. But there were guns. A couple handguns, and an AR-15.

  There was no way they’d let Miller near the leader while carrying an AR-15. And they’d surely pat him down for handguns, knives, and explosives. For any weapons whatsoever.

  Miller would have to think carefully about his plan. That was going to be tough. Right now he was so full of rage that he just wanted to rush in, guns blazing.

  If he wanted to achieve his goal, he’d have to slow down and plot carefully. He’d have to use every fiber of his intelligence, marshaling all his cunning.

  Maybe he could meet Kor, the leader, take careful note of the location, and then sneak back later to exact his revenge. No, that wouldn’t work. They’d probably blindfold Miller. If they had any sense at all. And unfortunately it sounded like they did.

  Maybe Miller could booby-trap himself with a hidden explosive, and then detonate himself, destroying everything around him.

  Miller wasn’t keen on that idea. It stank of cowardice. Sure, it was self-sacrificing, and he was fine with that. He didn’t expect to live through what he’d go through. But he wanted to be aware of every moment of it. An explosion would kill him first. He wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing the leader die in front of him, at his own hand.

  The sky was full of gray clouds. Some of the trees were starting to lose their leaves. It was happening early this year. Some had already lost their leaves. Early bloomers, Miller’s family had always called them. They’d never known the technical name.

  Miller’s thoughts turned towards his family.

  He’d been proud of his son. He’d been becoming quite a good shot with a rifle. And he was learning all the things one needed to know to run a self-sufficient homestead. He’d been scared, like everyone else, but for a boy of such a young age, he’d done a remarkable job of continuing on, of doing what had to be done. He’d even been a source of comfort for Miller’s wife, who’d had the most trouble out of all of them adjusting to the post-EMP world.

  No matter how hard he tried, Miller couldn’t shake the image of his wife and son lying dead on the ground. They’d taken multiple bullets each. They’d been killed instantly, most likely. There hadn’t been anything to do for them. No amount of first aid, no matter how expertly applied, would have done anything for them. Their eyes had simply stared straight ahead, blank and lifeless.

  Miller and his family had fought hard. Max and his group had just left the house. The drawbridge had been up, and Miller and his wife and son had shot at the enemies from their home windows. They’d stayed out of view as much as they could.

  Miller himself had taken the most risks. He’d exposed his body the most, trying to get off as many good shots as he could. He’d killed many of them. But not enough.

  It wasn’t fair that he was still alive. He should have been the one to die. His son had had many years of life ahead of him.

  Miller’s face felt hot and red. He doubted the anger would ever leave him.

  And that was the way he wanted it.

  Up ahead, the road transitioned from dirt to pavement.

  The tires rolled smoothly over the pavement. There was no longer the noise of the SUV moving over the dirt road. No noise from the bumps, from the potholes.

  Miller didn’t like the quiet. Not now. He wanted things to be noisy. It helped him with his thoughts.

  At any moment, Miller might run into a group. Most likely a militia group.

  The ones that he’d fought were likely long gone. Miller had killed half of them anyway.

  He didn’t yet have a plan, and he needed more time to think.

  It was a mental battle. He wanted to simply rush ahead into the fray, ready to die in the fight. But he knew he needed a plan.

  It was tough, but Miller slowed the SUV down and pulled over to the side of the road. He sat there with the vehicle running.

  He wouldn’t have said that it felt like his world was crashing down around him. Because it already had.

  Everything about his existence felt different. Everything he looked at seemed darker. More intense.

  He was a different man than he had been.

  Gazing through the windshield, he was in a fog.

  Up ahead, there was a flash of metal down the road. Something glinted in the dull light from the clouded sky.

  It was a pickup truck, barreling down the road at top speed. It was headed straight towards Miller.

  As it got closer, he saw that there were men in the bed of the pickup. Three or four of them. It was hard to tell.

  Despite Miller thinking he’d been ready, he did nothing. He just sat there as the pickup sped towards him.

  The pickup sped past Miller’s SUV. For a moment, it seemed like they’d just drive right on past.

  Miller cursed himself for letting an opportunity like that fly by.

  There was no doubt in his mind that they were part of the same organization that had attacked his home. He’d let an opportunity for revenge slip by.

  Even if it wasn’t the leader, Kor, it was something.

  Miller slammed his fist into the dash so hard that he left a dent. Pain flared in his hand.

  Miller’s eye followed the pickup in his rearview mirror.

  The driver suddenly slammed on the brakes, sending the pickup into a fishtailing skid.

  The pickup was maybe 200 feet behind Miller. The men in the bed jumped down onto the road. They all held guns. Assault rifles. One had a shotgun. Probably automatic.

  One wore full military fatigues and a combat helmet. But he didn’t walk like the military guys did. He was probably some lowl
ife from prison who’d stolen the uniform.

  There were three of them. No, four.

  Miller’s mind was having trouble taking it all in.

  Miller reached for the gun in his holster. He did it automatically.

  The rage inside him was telling him to fight. To kill as many as he could.

  But his brain was telling him that this was his chance. He shouldn’t fight them. He should convince them to take him to Kor, their leader. Only then could Miller find his true purpose, his revenge.

  8

  James

  “You feeling OK, Max?” said James, studying Max’s bruised and battered face.

  “I’m fine,” said Max.

  They were driving down the highway. They’d left the ghost town of Albion, heading south.

  The toll booth gates had been up, the toll booths abandoned. There wasn’t another car on the highway. Not a single soul in sight.

  The plan, as Max had explained it, was to stay in Pennsylvania, cutting straight down until they hit West Virginia. From there, they’d make their way to Kentucky.

  “You sure you don’t want me to drive?” said James.

  Max shook his head. “Maybe later,” he said.

  “I can drive, you know.”

  “I know,” said Max. “But let’s stick with this plan for now. OK?”

  “Sure, Max,” said James.

  James still couldn’t believe what Max had done for them all. It wasn’t just Max, though. It was his mom.

  His mom had always seemed like a strong woman. James had never admitted it to her, but he’d looked up to her. That was before the EMP, when they were living their normal lives in the suburbs.

  James hadn’t known his dad. Not much, at least. A few visits here and there, scattered throughout the years. James couldn’t even picture his face now. Not that he tried much.

  But James had never realized just how strong his mom was. Just how much she could go through…

  “How’s Chad doing?” said Max.

  James glanced at Chad in the backseat.

  “I can hear you, you know,” said Chad. “I’m fine.”

  He didn’t look fine. He still looked dazed. But his face was starting to look more normal. That goofy expression was mostly gone.

  “We thought we’d lost you,” said Max. “What the hell happened back there?”

  “Dunno,” mumbled Chad. “Must have been the stress or something. Sorry. I screwed up. It won’t happen again.”

  Max didn’t say anything.

  “Maybe it’s better if you talk about it,” said James. “I had to go to the school counselor a couple times. I was getting into fights at school. I didn’t think it would do anything, but talking about what was going on really helped me.”

  “He doesn’t need to talk about it,” said Max. “We’re all going through it. There’s nothing to discuss.”

  “Yeah,” said Chad. “I’m fine. It’s just… everything, you know?”

  “No need to go on,” said Max.

  They drove in silence for a while. The sky was a dark gray. James wished that the sun would come out. Everything seemed so much grimmer when the sun wasn’t shining.

  James spent a lot of time looking in the side mirror. Most of the time, he could see the Ford Bronco behind them. He couldn’t see his mother’s face, or Sadie’s, but he knew they were there, and it made him feel better. He was worried about them, especially Sadie, who still was having trouble adapting to the harsh new reality of a post-EMP world.

  “They’re fine, James,” said Max, glancing over and seeing that James was watching them in the mirror. “There’s no need to worry about them. Not any more than normal, I mean.”

  “Maybe I should have gone in the car with them,” said James. “If something happens…”

  “I need you here with me,” said Max. “And don’t worry. Your mom and Mandy can handle anything. Mandy’s getting to be a good shot.”

  James nodded. “Better than me, I think.”

  “No shame in that,” said Max. “Just keep practicing.”

  “How can I practice? It’s not like there’s any time.”

  “A lot of it’s mental,” said Max. “You’ve got to keep yourself in control, no matter what the situation. You’ll shoot a lot better if you’ve got your shit together, if you can stay calm. Reasonably calm, I mean.”

  “So we’re going to take the highway all the way down?” said James, changing the subject. He didn’t like talking about his weaknesses, not in front of Max.

  In a way, it was almost as if Max was becoming a father figure to him. Not that he’d ever tell Max that.

  “Yeah,” said Max. “It might expose us more, but we’ll make better time. Better than trying to figure out all those side roads. We’d end up getting lost again and running into more trouble.”

  “Makes sense,” said James. “The car seems like it’s working OK.”

  “Yeah,” said Max. “If I keep the revs under 5,000, the turbo doesn’t kick in. That helps save gas.”

  “I always wanted a car like this,” said James. “But now that I’m in it… I don’t know, it seems a little silly. Especially given the situation.”

  “Yeah,” said Max. “Not really the most practical. I bet it was good on the track. But we’re not on the track now.”

  “Sounds like a variation of ‘we’re not in Kansas anymore,’” said James.

  “That’s for sure,” said Max.

  They all fell silent for a while.

  So far, they hadn’t seen another vehicle on the highway.

  They drove by billboards, advertisements for products that would likely never be in production again. They were reminders of a world that was lost. Lost for good.

  They drove under the automated sensors that registered the electronic alternatives to paying tolls as they went. Not that those did anything anymore.

  “Let’s just hope the gates are up at the toll booths,” said Max.

  “What do we do if they aren’t?”

  “We can move them,” said Max. “But I just don’t want to waste time. And every time we stop, we put ourselves in more danger.”

  “There’s one up ahead.”

  “Your eyes are sharper than mine. Good catch.”

  It was a strange sight, seeing the toll booth again.

  They were empty, and the gates were down this time.

  “Looks like we’re going to have to stop,” said Max. “I’ll get out and see if I can lift it. It’s business as usual—keep your gun ready. You’d better get out, James. That rifle won’t be much good if you stay in the car.”

  The rifle had been leaning against James’s knee. He’d almost forgotten it was there. It had become a part of him since the EMP. It rarely left his side. Max had been good about drilling that into their heads.

  Max slowed to a stop.

  Behind them, Georgia stopped the Bronco as well.

  Max signaled for them to stay in the car.

  He and James got out.

  The air was a little warmer than it had been. But the sky was still a dark gray. Rock cliffs, artificially created, lined the sides of the highway.

  It was strange, standing in the middle of an abandoned interstate.

  “You see anyone? Anything?” said Max.

  Max was using his binoculars to scan the area, while staying crouched off to the side of the Honda. James imitated him, keeping low and using the car as cover.

  “Nothing,” said James.

  “Hey,” said Chad, opening the back door. “What the hell’s going on?”

  He must have still been pretty out of it if he hadn’t heard the whole plan.

  “Back in the car, Chad,” said Max.

  Chad stayed in the car, but kept the door open. It was stupid of him, abandoning the potential protection of the car door, but there wasn’t time to babysit him and tell him what to do. James didn’t feel like it was his job anyway. Chad was a grown man, even if he was suffering from some kind of shock.
<
br />   “I don’t see anything either,” said Max, letting the binoculars drop down to where they hung around his neck.

  James watched Max as Max went to move the gate. James knew that he had to keep his eyes on his surroundings, rather than watching Max.

  “Shit,” muttered Max. “I can’t get it. Come over here and help me, James.”

  “Should I get my mom and the others to cover us?”

  “Let’s just get this over with,” said Max.

  James had to set his rifle down to help Max. The gate was hard to move. James tested it by pulling up on it. Maybe they’d’ be able to move it if they both used all their strength.

  “We could just drive through it,” said James. “It’s pretty flimsy.”

  “We might damage the car,” said Max. “Come on. Give it your all.”

  James settled into a good stance, keeping his back straight.

  “Go,” said Max.

  They both pulled up, as hard as they could. Slowly, they got the gate to start moving. Once they got it past a certain point, the gears seemed to loosen up.

  “OK,” said Max. “I can take it from here.”

  Max was taller than James, and was able to push the gate almost all the way to its normal open position.

  James quickly grabbed his rifle from the ground, and made sure to look around.

  Still, there was no one.

  “Do you hear that?” said James, looking down the highway.

  Max shook his head. “What do you hear?”

  “Sounds like an engine. I don’t know. It’s something.”

  James stared down the long empty stretch of gray highway, looking past and through the toll booth.

  “I don’t see anything,” said Max.

  “Me neither,” said James.

  “Come on,” said Max. “We’d better get out of here. I hear it now.”

  The sound was getting louder. It was definitely the engine of some vehicle. Aside from the Ford Bronco behind them, and their own Honda, there was hardly another noise for what seemed like miles around. The silence made the isolated noise seem eerie and ominous.

  “But we’re going to be heading right towards the noise,” said James.