Finally, he marched up to the pair just as Tara said, “…Carl, you agree with me. You’re a Marine. You know the carnage liberal policies have inflicted on the military. Tell him.”
“Sometimes a good peacemaker is worth more than a million nuclear missiles,” Preston quickly replied.
Carl raised his hand. “Knock it off. I’m not butting in to support anybody. Now, let’s save the political debate for another day and another place when we’re not in danger. I don’t know who fired the first shot. I don’t even know if anybody fired a shot. Sometimes EMPs can be caused by the sun, which means nobody is responsible. In any case, it does not matter now. We need to focus on surviving, and loudly bickering at each other may only draw the wrong kind of attention…”
“Hey!” A male’s voice called in the distance. “I’m telling you, I thought I heard voices over there.”
“Shit,” Carl whispered.
Chapter Fifteen
Tara drew her hood over her head. Carl reached down and grabbed Shyanne, while Preston turned in the direction of the voices. “I don’t see anybody,” he whispered. The low hang of the overpass obscured their view, but not so much that they could not see a good distance away.
Carl took Preston by the shoulder while holding a finger to his own lips. Better to not speak any more until they knew what they were dealing with. Then he quickly turned and marched to the opposite side of the overpass, following it until it met the highway back on the ground.
Once there, he held out his palm, communicating a clear meaning—stop. Carl didn’t want them emerging from the side where those voices came from, but he couldn’t let Tara, Preston and Shyanne come out over here until he had a good idea of what lay beyond.
He pointed his thumb up at the overpass, then turned it toward his chest. Roughly translated, his gesture said, “I’m going up there to look.” He pointed his finger at them. “Stay here.”
Shyanne didn’t understand. “Mister Carl?”
Tara quickly shushed her. “It’s okay.” She took the girl by the shoulders. “He’s going to check it out,” she whispered.
Shyanne settled down. Carl turned and walked up to the point where the overpass met the ground. The high hill of the ground gave Carl enough cover so he could peek over the side of the overpass without a good chance of being viewed by anyone who might be lurking out there.
God willing, we won’t catch anyone’s attention, Carl thought as he pressed against the embankment to help climb up over the overpass’s edge.
He sucked in heavy breaths as he hoisted himself to the top of the embankment. A few feet from his face was a two-door brown car, stopped in the right-hand lane. For a moment, Carl almost lost his balance, expecting the car to zip by within inches of his hands on the asphalt. He had to remember that the EMP had stopped all traffic, likely for many years to come. However, he still was conditioned to expect everyday modern occurrences like speeding traffic to take place on roads and highways. He recognized that sometimes he still was going to expect “normalcy” even if intellectually he knew the world had changed radically.
Satisfied that he wasn’t going to be run down by a speeding vehicle, Carl climbed up onto his knees onto Earhart Highway. He would not stand up fully until he got a good look at the surrounding area. Instead, he crept to the stopped vehicle, nestled its bumper and looked around its side. Nobody was in view on the other side of the highway. Those voices likely came from the ground, from under the overpass.
Now pressing against the stalled car, Carl glanced up the overpass, to where it ascended over the river and the highway beyond it. The overpass was actually mostly free of vehicles, with only a car here, a truck there, all sporadically dotting the route all the way up to the overpass’s highest point. An off-ramp in the distance was no more crowded, with only a pickup truck caught close by the ramp’s exit.
Carl switched direction to the highway as it curved and his interest quickly intensified. Some yards away, where the highway led toward the suburbs, a small crowd of people had gathered. They weren’t walking down the highway. Instead, they just seemed to be milling around. Perhaps it was a gathering point for survivors.
He wanted to trek down the highway to get a better look, but he could not leave Preston, Shyanne, and Tara behind. He had to get them up here now. Those men they heard below the overpass could reach them at any moment.
Carl dashed back to the highway embankment and peered down over his three companions. He motioned with his finger to get up here. Then he slid down the hill and picked up Shyanne. Tara and Preston each joined in to push the little girl up onto the highway.
As Shyanne crawled up onto the asphalt, the sounds of shoes crunching on grass bounced off the overpass supports. Carl wasted no time in grabbing Preston by the waist and hoisting him up. Tara already was climbing up the small hill, but her boot slipped, and she slid down partway. Carl quickly came to her aid and helped her the rest of the way up. Then, with a quick climb, Carl joined them.
Now that they all were gathered, Carl put his finger back to his lips. He didn’t want the men below to hear them until Carl had led them to what he figured was a safe distance. Perhaps the men under the overpass quickly would give up their search when they failed to spot any people down there.
So, Carl took the three of them to the highway’s center lane. He pointed down the road, to a point after Earhart made its curves, where he had discovered the crowd of people gathering.
Tara mouthed, “People?” Preston showed his surprise by pointing a thumb in that direction.
“Yeah,” Carl whispered, still not willing to talk very loudly in case they were overheard by their mystery guests. “Could be survivors. There’s no rioting, not that I see. I wish I could see down there better, but it’s still early dawn.”
“No problem.” Tara started fishing through her pack. “I got some binoculars with me.” She pulled a set of binoculars free. “Here.” She handed them to Carl. “Take a look for yourself.”
Carl dashed to the edge of the stalled two-door car so he would have an unobstructed view. He put the binoculars to his eyes. The crowd, once a hard to define mass, suddenly was revealed in great detail. The ex-military man gazed upon a collection of men, women and children, perhaps about a hundred, many of them dressed in ordinary street clothes that didn’t look torn or dirty. These people probably had been farther away from the horrors of yesterday, perhaps from the suburbs or the outer edge of the city, and not had been caught up in the shootings or the riots. On occasion, however, Carl would glimpse someone who was bandaged up pretty heavily. One young man was wandering in a daze with a white bandage across his entire forehead, with smaller bandages covering his wrists and right arm.
The crowd seemed mostly calm, except for one or two young women who were visibly sobbing. Carl only could imagine what those ladies had lost in this chaos. Some of the people just sat on the ground or on the highway. Others chatted with other survivors. At times water bottles, food in plastic wrapping, or small vials that Carl thought to be medicine were passed around.
Carl paced across the width of the highway lane to take in as great a view as he could. It soon became clear that this group didn’t look dangerous at all. If anything, he was a little concerned at the lack of weapons, as they could be easy prey for a roaming mob to pick off, but at least Carl finally had found some kind of haven. No, haven would be too strong a word. Again, Carl had his doubts that the group could defend themselves. Even still, Carl and his company might find a collection of people where they could receive information about any relief efforts under way, and perhaps acquire some food or water. Carl desperately hoped Shyanne would be able to receive something at least.
“What do you see? Don’t hog them, Carl. Is it good?” Preston asked.
Carl passed the binoculars to Preston. “Better than we’ve seen since all this shit went down. It’s a crowd of people and, for once, they don’t look like they’re going to tear each other’s heads off. I think it’s
a small gathering point for survivors. I even saw food and water being passed around.”
“They are good people?” Shyanne asked, “No shooting?”
Carl smiled. “No shooting.” He looked to Preston, who had the binoculars in hand. “Take a look.”
Preston obliged, though he needed some help from Carl to focus the lenses. But soon he understood what Carl meant. “Yeah, I see them. It’s great. Civilized human beings working together for their common good.” He chuckled. “My faith in humanity’s being restored.”
Carl turned to Tara, whose expression had grown surprisingly sour. Confused, Carl took the binoculars from Preston and returned them to their owner. “You want to see for yourself?”
Tara simply swiped the binoculars back without a hint of gentleness. Then she pressed the eyepieces to her face. A shudder ran through her body. Her fingers tensed up on the binoculars like claws.
“Tara?” Carl asked.
She then lowered the binoculars. “You want to join them?”
“I think that’s the idea,” Preston said, partially sarcastic and partially confused. “People with food and water who don’t want to kill us? Hell yes.”
“If they’re friendly, sure. We’re safer in numbers,” Carl explained. “And if these people are headed out of town, we can go with them, blend in. That’s what you want to do in the event of societal collapse. You try making yourself as unnoticeable as you can. By ourselves, we’re easier targets for predators.”
Tara bit her lip. “And you think we can trust them?”
“Trust them? Well, maybe there are a few bad actors, but I think they will keep to themselves if they’re in a large group,” Carl replied.
Tara seemed incredibly apprehensive about joining up with that band of survivors. Carl studied her movements as she placed the binoculars back to her eyes. Her face was tight. She also was tapping her left foot almost constantly. These all were signs of someone very nervous about something.
Suddenly, she let out a small gasp. Tara quickly pulled down the binoculars.
“Okay. So, do you have an Option B?”
“Option B? What do you mean?” Carl asked.
“Option B. You know, a different plan, something other than joining that group?” She shrugged. “I mean, you’re military. Right, Sergeant? Think we should do a threat assessment first?”
Carl was utterly baffled. He thought at times he was too suspicious, but Tara was taking the cake.
“Tara, is there a problem? Is something wrong?” Carl gently asked.
With a huff, Tara hung the binoculars over her neck. “Well, your plan sounds nice, but I’m not up for it.” She started walking backward. She wasn’t even turning around.
“Tara, did you see something down there?” Carl picked his brain to figure out what might have spooked Tara, but he had spotted nothing down there to trip his mental alarms.
Before Tara could say anything, the voices from below piped up, suddenly a lot closer. They easily were identifiable as two men, one with a slight Southern accent, and the other with a high-pitched voice accompanied by a low gurgle.
“Somebody’s definitely been down here,” the Southern voice said, “I can see the shoeprints, and someone took a nap over there.”
“Shit,” Tara whispered. Retreating off the overpass wasn’t an option, as they likely would be seen by their mysterious guests.
“Tara, come on.” Carl kept his voice low as he waved to her. “This is the best option for us.”
Tara shook her head. “Look, I think it’s better if I split on my own. You guys do what you want. I’m out of here.” She turned and started running back up the overpass.
“What the hell is she doing?” Preston asked. “Has she gone crazy? I mean, more than she usually is?”
“Something’s got her spooked,” Carl said. “I don’t know what the hell it could be.” He started walking in her direction. Shyanne followed.
“Hey, where are you going? You’re actually going to go after her?” Preston asked. “Just let her go. We can join up with the crowd down there, get some relief.”
“By herself, she’ll be dead before the day is out. We need to bring her back,” Carl said.
“I don’t want her to get chewed up by this city, believe me. But we’re not superheroes. We can’t save everybody. We got to do what we can for ourselves.”
Carl turned to Preston. “Look, I’m not asking you to come with me. In fact, it’s probably better you don’t. You’re right, there could be serious relief down there. Maybe it’s best we part here.” He smiled crookedly. “I’m sure you’ve had your fill of me by now, right?”
Preston seemed stunned. “Are you sure about this?”
Carl looked down. “Hey, Shyanne, you want to go with Preston? Meet the nice people down there?”
The little girl shook her head. “No, no, I want to stay with you, Mister Carl.”
Carl grimaced. It probably would be better for Shyanne to go with Preston and meet up with the survivors, but if he had any chance of catching Tara, he had to go now. He had no time to try persuading Shyanne to leave his side. Besides, part of Carl didn’t want to leave Shyanne until he knew she would be safe. Sending her off like this wouldn’t do much to convince him.
So, he reached down and scooped up the girl. “Okay. How about we go chase down Miss Tara? Seems like she wants to play a game of tag, and she’s it. Ready?”
Shyanne nodded. “Yeah!”
Carl turned to Preston. “Again, thanks for saving me yesterday. I hope you can find safe shelter with the people over there.”
Then he turned toward the overpass and started jogging after Tara.
Chapter Sixteen
“Tara!” Carl shouted at the top of his lungs as he struggled to close the gap between him and his new friend. Ordinarily, it would not be any trouble to catch up to a civilian, especially one who possessed no military training, but carting Shyanne around weighed him down.
By now Carl had tracked Tara close to the overpass’s highest point, where it soon would dip over and slope back down the other side. Tara, while keeping well ahead of Carl for a few minutes, suddenly slowed down. As Carl approached her, he could hear the young woman’s panting. She was out of breath. Running up an incline like this was bound to wear on a person sooner or later. Even Carl’s legs felt quite heavy after all this running.
“Before…you…go…” Carl tried speaking through his panting. “…for…a…morning jog…best…to eat…your breakfast.” He recalled that Tara hadn’t had time to eat anything before they took off from their camp under the overpass.
Tara’s flight had slowed to a walk. “I told you,” she said through gasping breaths. “I don’t need you. I can carry on by myself. I’m…I’m better off by myself.”
“But Miss Tara, I want you to stay,” Shyanne said, with all the earnestness that could come from the voice of a small child.
Shyanne’s plea caused Tara to slow down even more. She looked at the girl with a dash of sympathy. “Baby…I’d like to stay with you too.” Tara clutched her stomach. “But you see…” Tara grimaced as she tried to spill her thoughts. “Well, it’s complicated stuff for a child.”
“Then how about explaining it to me?” Carl asked, having finally caught completely up with Tara. “What had you spooked back there?”
Tara finally slowed to a complete stop. “I, I just saw someone down there. Somebody who reminded me of someone else.” She let out a cough before continuing.
“Look, Sergeant, I’d rather not be around a crowd of people right now. Yesterday, I ran into a similar bunch like that.” She looked away. “It was a bunch of survivors near a motel. It—it didn’t turn out well.”
Carl was beginning to comprehend Tara’s problem. The young woman evidently had experienced something horrible, even traumatic, and it was likely either in a group of survivors like that one Carl had spotted, or because of one. “You said you saw someone down there. What did he look like?”
&n
bsp; Tara crossed her arms over her chest. “He wore a white shirt with a red tie and dark pants. It wasn’t the same man as before. He just dressed the same. I saw his clothes and I just freaked.”
Carl nodded. “I guess this would have something to do with your boyfriend not being with you?”
Tara’s eyes met Carl’s. “Yeah, you could say that.” Her lips tightened. Carl wondered how much more of the story he could pull from her.
“I’m sorry,” Carl said. “I’m sure it’s the last thing you want to talk about. I’m not here to pry. I just want you to get out of this alive.”
Tara shook her head. “You don’t have to do anything for me. You don’t even know me. I’m just some random stranger who mistook you for a child molester.” She bit her lip. “Again, sorry for that. Really.”
“Apology accepted.” Carl etched a small smile. “Well, what can I say? I’m a stubborn Marine. We’re the worst kind. For example, you’re about to get the ‘you can’t survive on your own speech.’”
Tara laughed. “Oh God.”
Carl’s smile grew wider even as he spoke frankly about Tara’s survival prospects. “You sound like you understand the outdoors, but you probably don’t have the kind of survival training you need to handle a societal breakdown like this. In the woods, in the mountains, it’s just you and nature. Here, you’re surrounded by people and you don’t know if they’re looking for help or if they’re going to shoot your head off. Besides, you can’t run off your hunting rations forever. You need to find some provisions. That means you’re going to have to accept help sooner or later. If you’re spooked about joining a crowd, then I’ll stick with you all the way.”
Carl exhaled before continuing. “Besides, if I may be a little selfish for a moment, your rations and your equipment really can help us out. And, as you’ve noticed…” He looked down at Shyanne with a smile. “I have a little mouth to feed. And I really think you being with Shyanne helps her out. She’s been through a lot and having a grown woman with her I’m sure would do wonders. So, please stay with us a little longer.”
Silent Interruption (Book 1): Silent Interruption Page 12
