The Survivors: Books 1-6

by Nathan Hystad

  I did keep an eye out for anything that might be a sign of another human being, but so far, nothing. I had the AM radio on low, so a quiet buzz constantly emanated from the truck’s speakers, but no signal came the whole trip. I honestly hadn’t expected to hear anything, but it was worth a shot. At that moment, I wondered if it had been short-sighted to not bring a CB radio. If someone was alive, they might try transmitting on one of the common channels. I decided to find one as soon as I got into the big city.

  I slowed down as I neared an exit that would take me to Manhattan in about thirty miles. If I tried to take one of the city bridges in, or a tunnel, I knew they would be jam-packed with cars and there would be no way to get my truck and supplies through. I elected to head east and make for one of the entrances far north of Manhattan so I would have an easier time; then I could meander down through Yonkers and south from there. With any luck, I would be able to get through.

  It almost seemed too good to be true as I approached the large bridge. It was fairly full, but mostly on the other side. I saw that a bunch of people had tried to drive on the wrong side of the road at the end, but I could still squeeze through by keeping half my truck on the shoulder. I bumped the curb a couple times, but eventually I was over the Hudson River and on my way into the city. I took as many side roads as I could to avoid cars. At this point, I wished the aliens had taken the cars with them too. It was extremely eerie to see thousands of vehicles strewn around the roadways, but no people.

  As I thought about a city the size of New York being empty, the hair on the back of my neck stood straight up. All of a sudden, I felt very vulnerable out here all by myself. As if on cue, I saw it lower through the clouds.

  I quickly slowed the truck to a stop as the silver-gray ship dipped lower and lower. My heart slammed against my chest, and I started to gasp for air. I checked the necklace and it was just the regular color; no molten green at the moment. I sat as still as possible and Carey perched himself up against the window that I had closed. He watched the ship with me as it sped across the morning sky. It did a few loops, like it was looking for something, and then disappeared into the distance. One thing I knew for sure was that the ship was a duplicate of the ones that had arrived yesterday, but it was much smaller. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew I had to keep my eyes peeled for more of those things. Whatever I was destined to do, something was going to try to stop me.

  SIX

  By the time I got to the Bronx, there were so many cars on the roads that the only place the truck would fit was on the sidewalks. Maneuvering it through the light poles and building steps wasn’t as easy as I hoped. It was a very slow, rough drive, and by the time we got to Yankee Stadium, it was well after noon. My stomach was growling and Carey looked like he could use a bathroom break; so could I.

  The stadium grew in my windshield until I was parked right outside its front doors. I used to love coming to the games, watching the Yankees on a sunny afternoon, “Sunday in New York” blasting through the stadium speakers. We hopped out of the truck and to the gate. Surprisingly, it was open, unlocked to the public. I was the only public left, I supposed, so we ambled on in, making our way to the field. I’d never stood on the grass, and once down there, I found that given the world’s current situation, being on the diamond had lost its luster. Carey decided to relieve himself on the pitcher’s mound and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the sight. He wiggled and ran around the grass like he was a puppy. I ran with him for a few minutes, like a boy playing with his dog. After we were both worn out, I figured while we were here, we might as well get some baseball food. We went to the concourse and I hopped the concession stand, pilfering a few bags of peanuts and some beef jerky. Carey seemed to smell the meat before it was out of the bag; drool fell from his mouth as I tore the bag open.

  “Someone’s hungry.” I gave him a piece of the jerky before eating a piece of the salty meat myself. Dark clouds were rolling in as we walked back towards the truck, and it felt like rain was due any minute. I glanced to the sky and for a moment worried I would see that silver ship again, but there was nothing but dark clouds looming above us now.

  “Come on, Carey. Let’s get moving.” He listened and ran ahead of me but never too far away. I found it hard to believe this was the same whining dog from back home, since he seemed so confident and self-assured out here in the wilds of New York City. We headed toward the front entrance and I grabbed a Yankees ball cap and umbrella to stave off the impending rain. As we left the front doors, I whistled “Sunday in New York,” for a second forgetting the fact that I was all alone in the world.

  Once the truck door was open, Carey hopped in and momentarily we were heading deep into the city. I hoped we would be at the Toronto Dominion Bank in an hour or so, but I was wrong. Once we passed through the Bronx, I headed to Willis Avenue Bridge, the southernmost entrance into Harlem. I’d driven by the other bridges and they were all jammed with cars, so I had high hopes that I could cross this one. I was sadly disappointed when we arrived there to see it fully clogged with vehicles. The sidewalks were on the right side, and with the dividers, they weren’t wide enough to get a vehicle through. I slumped forward, letting my head rest on the steering wheel, as heavy rain pelted my windshield.

  For a moment, I thought I would just sit there and wait out the rain, but if I was truly humanity’s last hope, I knew I’d better find a way to get across. I decided to walk and find another truck, then haul all of my supplies there. Once I was over, I wouldn’t have to worry about a bridge until after whatever I found in Manhattan. With the plan settled, Carey and I started making the trek across with my groceries and clothing. I hadn’t realized how long the bridge was until I had to walk to the end and back four times to get it all. The last trip, I borrowed an appliance dolly from a moving truck and moved the generator. I figured I had just walked almost five miles in total and it had taken me over two hours, making it close to four by the time I had my new truck loaded up. Carey was soaked and the front end of the GMC lost its new car smell as it was very quickly replaced with the classic, wet dog de toilette.

  Before starting my journey again, I saw a semi-truck sitting there like a behemoth amongst cars, and I recalled the CB radio I wanted to get. I jumped into the cab of the Mack and tried to slide the CB off its mount. After a few minutes, a couple of swear words and a screwdriver, I was the proud owner of a radio. I moved it to scan, looking for any local frequency that might be transmitted, glad that truck driver had a quality unit. When it didn’t find anything, we started to move, slowly dodging cars and heading through the streets of Harlem.

  ______________

  One of my favorite things about living in the state of New York was the sheer number of trees. They were everywhere. I remember the first time I’d flown in from Ohio and saw the green from above. Growing up in the country, we had our share of trees, but they usually lined a farmer’s crop. This was different to me. I’d always thought New York would just be a huge city with nothing but concrete and criminals. Instead, it was a lovely state, with flowers, trees, and parks everywhere, with the Mecca of everything you could want in the big city at your fingertips. It was the perfect balance for me. When I’d moved here, I’d spent the first couple years in a Battery Park condo. It was the size of a shoebox, but it was close to the subway, which made commuting to work so easy. It was also a twenty-minute ride to Central Park.

  I loved Central Park. It was the most magical place I’d ever seen; ever since that time I walked onto the grass, it felt special. The paths, the trees, and the people – it was just amazing. As Carey and I neared the huge park in the middle of the high-rises, I fondly remembered the first time I’d seen my wife, nine years ago in this very park. I was meeting a client for my firm in the Boathouse, a wonderful dinner and drinks spot in the middle of Central Park. It’s an iconic place where many “meet cutes,” as they said in the movies, happened in classic films.

  It was fitting that this was where I would f
irst lay eyes on Janine. My meeting was just finishing, and as I stood to leave, she walked in. There was something that just drew me in instantly; she smiled at the hostess and my heart melted. I saw a man rise from the bar, leaving his stool empty, and start walking towards her.

  My shoulders slumped as she turned to him. It was like she moved in slow motion, and as her head turned, our eyes locked. Hers widened slightly, and my heart pounded in my chest. No woman had ever looked at me like that before, and I doubted any ever would again. I stepped forward, all rational thoughts pushed to the side for the moment. I forgot about the man coming to meet her and I arrived before him. Her eyebrows rose as I took her hand and said hello.

  “Hello,” she replied quietly, a slight blush in her smooth cheek.

  “I don’t know who that guy is, but how about we have dinner?” I asked in a way so unlike myself.

  The man had arrived by this point, and I suddenly felt inadequate. He was one of those classic manly guys with the square jaw, shirt tight against his chest. I also noticed a military tattoo where his dress shirt sleeve was rolled up.

  “Janine, I presume?” he asked, trying to step in front of me.

  She glanced at me. “Sorry, no. Must be mistaken,” she said, taking my hand in hers. We went to a table in the back corner of the lounge, leaving behind a bewildered military man. We talked for hours and had a great dinner. I remember her ordering a portabella mushroom panini, then we started with a glass of red wine, and by the end of the night, we were sipping scotch outside; white string lights hung above us by the pond while midnight lovers paddled by in rented canoes. It was the best night of my life.

  When I asked about the guy, she said it was just a blind date, and I didn’t prod past that.

  Carey looked out the window and gave a low growl. It knocked me out of my daydreaming, but I couldn’t see any reason for him to bark, except the usual dog things: fire hydrants, mailboxes, a garbage bag flying in the wind. We headed down Central Park West at Eighty-First Street, one of the most beautiful in the entire city. There were a lot of cars out, but it wasn’t in a jam: more like everyone had just made straight east or west from where they were and not north-south. It made sense. The best way out was to head west inland from here. I tried to imagine what the lines at the Lincoln Tunnel must look like right now and shuddered at the thought. I’d never been much for traffic, hence moving into a small community. I liked the slower pace much better, and so had Janine.

  We weaved through the cars that were on the street and soon the buildings got larger and cleaner, and more expensive. I couldn’t fathom the sheer wealth that sat in the area, with each park view condo being well in excess of five million dollars for a two-bedroom. We came up to the Museum of Natural History, and I slowed to a stop. Here was where I’d proposed to Janine almost eight years ago. She was fascinated by the place, and instead of something outrageous, I asked her to marry me outside while we snacked on a bagel and coffee. I hit the gas and noticed something out the corner of my eye.

  A large black man ran towards my truck at full speed, a sheer look of panic in his face. Carey barked incessantly through the window. I didn’t know what to do. I stepped out of the truck and slid a rifle out from behind the seat. I walked back a half-dozen steps, Carey following and barking as the man approached, obviously out of breath.

  We stood there for a few moments, neither of us knowing what to say. He broke the silence through ragged breaths. “Get in the truck. They’ll see us!” I looked up to the sky and saw a silver ship hovering nearby.

  “Carey, in the truck!” He looked at me with a tilted head. The man had already jumped into the passenger seat. “Carey, get in, boy!” He growled at me. The silver ship was getting closer, and any moment, it would spot us standing there. I got in the truck and Carey finally got the point, jumping onto my lap. As I swung the door shut and turned the truck engine off, the ship slowly hovered over us and into the park space.

  We sat in silence, barely breathing while we watched it hover over the green space; soon it was out of our sight.

  “I saw a ship a few hours ago, up north. Do you think there are a bunch of them?” I asked the stranger.

  “No idea. I got close to the city early this morning...left Pittsburgh as soon as everyone disappeared.” I noticed him fidgeting with something and saw a ring on his pinky finger with a large green stone.

  I nodded towards it. “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

  “Not a lot. I hoped you did,” he replied.

  I pulled my amulet from under my shirt and showed him. He grimaced and rubbed his hands over his face.

  “She told me to wear this damn ring. I had no idea what she was talking about, or why. But when your girlfriend is sick and asks you to do something in her memory, you do it. Save the world, she said.” His breath was ragged, the words spilling out like he’d been waiting years to say them.

  I’m sure my mouth hung wide open at his words. His story was so similar to mine that I knew this couldn’t be a coincidence, only my wife hadn’t mentioned the “saving humanity” bit. I had no idea what was happening, but I was glad to have someone to share the pressure with.

  “I’m Dean. Dean Parker.” I reached out my hand, which he took in a firm handshake.

  “Ray Jones. I tell you, I’m glad to meet someone else. How’d you not get taken?”

  The word taken stuck in my brain, and I sat there remembering James getting lifted through my house. “My wife. Same story as you, Ray. She died and made me promise to wear this.” I lifted the chain and showed him the green pendant hanging from it. “Only I didn’t believe that my life was at stake, and I just got it from a storage locker yesterday after the ships came. I guess I’m glad I did now. Even after death, we should listen to our wives, hey?” The joke hung out there in the air, neither of us laughing at it.

  “How the hell are we supposed to save the world? I mean, I’m just a guy from Pittsburgh, a computer science engineer, who works at a steel factory programming manufacturing machinery. God above us, all I want to do is watch the Steelers and drink a cold one after a long day.”

  “I have no idea. I’m an accountant. Maybe if I audit them, I can find out where they brought everyone.” Another swing, another miss. My mom used to always chide me for making jokes at the wrong time, but I guess that’s how I dealt with things. “How did you get here? Why New York?” I thought about the vague letter with the safety deposit box information.

  “I drove in. The highways had a lot of cars, but I made it through with a Jeep. I had to cruise in the ditch for some sections, but I made it all right. When I got through to Jersey, the tunnels and bridges were all packed. I grabbed my bag and went to a dock on the Jersey coast where I commandeered a motor boat. Didn’t think the owner would mind. I landed at the boat basin by Seventy-Seventh Street and headed east. Then I saw the ship and hid, when I saw you there. I was sure the ship would see you if you were moving. And here we are. The reason I came here. A letter telling me to, after my Kate passed away.”

  I wasn’t normally a trusting man, and with all the things my wife apparently had kept from me, I had good reason, but there was something right about Ray. He just seemed so honest, and I instantly felt like I could trust the guy. “Let me guess...TD bank...box number, all of that business.”

  He slowly nodded to me and put his bag in the cab of the truck. “You got it. Seems we’re more alike in this than I thought. So, both had significant others die and make us wear a freaky stone that heats up and keeps us here while the rest of the world gets dragged to space. Then we have the same message to go to New York to a bank box. What do you think we’re going to find when we get there?”

  I had no idea. “Hopefully some answers. Let’s go find out.” I took one last look at the museum, started the truck, and headed toward downtown.

  SEVEN

  As we crossed into Times Square, the sun was being blocked to the west by all of the tall buildings surrounding us. We pulled up to the
street the bank was on, but the roads were just too full of taxis, tour buses, and police cars.

  “We’re going to have to walk there,” Ray said, getting out of the car. “Should we leash Carey up or leave him in the car?”

  I thought about a ship coming and finding us because Carey might decide to stand and bark at it. “Let’s bring him but leash him up.” I eyed my rifle under the seat but doubted it would do me any good should one of the aliens, or whatever they were, come down and confront us. I just brought the paper with the information on it and checked my pocket to make sure the key was there. Once we had everything and Carey was leashed, we headed down the block. He didn’t seem to mind the leash, and I thought it was probably quite the picture.

  In a minute or two, we were at the bank, and I couldn’t help but notice how eerily quiet it was there. I’d spent a lot of time in this city, and noise was something you just got used to. The dead silence of it now was more than unnerving to me. Even the country growing up wasn’t this quiet. No cars honking a language only the cabbies understood, no falafel vendors shouting to patrons, no noise of the city. Just silence.

  As if reading my mind, Ray turned to me and said, “It’s too quiet. I don’t like it.”

  We walked into the unlocked doors and passed our way to the far side of the building.

  “Where do you think they keep these things?” I asked, hoping Ray might know.

  “I think they’re going to be around the back here, out of sight, but still close to security.”

  He was right, and we were soon at the doors. Only problem was, they were locked. It appeared there was a code to get in, but we didn’t have it. There was also a manual key hole, so we decided to search the place in hopes of finding a key ring left behind that would grant us access. With the power out, the code puncher was probably useless anyway.