The Age of Embers (Book 4): The Age of Exodus

by Schow, Ryan

  Shaking my head, sickened by this yet again, I smash the gas, hitting a woman who barely avoided the purple beast. Gripping the wheel, I hold my foot down, consequences be damned. I tell myself these aren’t real people, that they’re crash test dummies.

  Right then one of the people Ice hits flies up over the roof of the purple beast, the barbed wire tearing holes in his clothes and skin before flinging him into the bus. He slams down on the bus’s hood with a brutal thud, rolling into the windshield’s protective bars.

  Adeline screams, but covers her mouth quickly to stifle the cry.

  This guy’s a dirty looking twenty-something with glazed eyes that are halfway open and a severely cranked neck.

  “Is he dead?” Adeline asks, breathless.

  The man’s gaze shifts over to Adeline, then back to me. Finally he blinks. We hit two more bodies, three, four, and that’s when Adeline leans over and lays on the horn. My senses are officially overloaded. I swat her hand away and tell her not to touch the wheel.

  Another Molotov Cocktail hammers the side of the bus, the glass bottle exploding, fire rushing up the paint. Chase is already on it. He’s snuffing out the flames, then blasting a few more people with powdery white clouds.

  And then we’re out of the mob. Seeing open roads ahead, save for a few destroyed and abandoned cars, is like a breath of fresh air.

  Behind us, there are about a hundred people chasing. They’re shaking their hands, screaming at us, throwing things that are now missing the cars completely. There’s also a trail of bodies strewn out across the pavement. Deeper in the crowd I see a fire and people burning. These are the people who got caught in the blast Orlando created. They’re now running around, bumping into each other, falling over dead.

  “Good freaking God,” Adeline says, reverent.

  I can’t speak because I’m so juiced with adrenalin my blood pressure has spiked and all I want to do is fight, run over people, kill.

  I let out a ferocious scream at the guy still smashed against the barred windshield. He manages to lift himself enough to push himself off the hood of the bus. He drops to the pavement below, his body violently rolling, twisting and skidding to a stop where he just lays there.

  “Are you okay?” Adeline asks me, panicked.

  “I can’t take this crap anymore!” I roar, my voice chock full of rage.

  Almost instinctively, she lashes out, smacking the side of my head hard enough to rattle me. Wild-eyed and manic, I turn and level her with my meanest glare.

  “Pull it together!” she screams. Something in me comes around. Tells me to calm down. I look at her, at this beautiful, dirty woman glaring at me, and I tell myself she’s right. “You have responsibilities. Look around you dammit!”

  Everyone else is looking up here at me and now I’m trying to reel in my emotions.

  “I’m fine,” I say, even though I don’t feel it. I look out the back to make sure Draven’s still with us. He is, but now he’s pulling over to the side of the road because the hood of his car is on fire. I get on the two-way, tell Ice what’s up.

  Braking hard next to the Chevy, I say to Chase, “Get that fire extinguisher ready!”

  But when Draven pulls over, the passenger door is kicked open and Xavier is jumping out and putting the fire out with his own fire extinguisher. When the flames are extinguished, Draven radios in and tells us it’s all good.

  I radio ahead to Ice and he starts back up. Working through the gears, trying to find the soft path of this now cranky gearbox, we manage to keep up.

  Looking at Chase, I say, “Even though you probably have a few screws loose, which I’m sure you do after seeing that stunt you pulled with the dead guy earlier, you’re the hero of the day for finding those fire extinguishers.”

  He sits back and smiles, but then Phillip shows him the very red and dripping end of the shovel handle he and Nasr converted to a spear and says, “They work!”

  “We’re a good team,” I tell Adeline, still a little crazed, but pulling back from the edge of that cliff now that we’re safely away from the mob.

  But then the ‘Cuda starts to slow again and I’m like, “What now?”

  I ease out into the opposite lane to catch a glimpse of the road ahead, and that’s when we see an older woman with binoculars hanging around her neck. She’s in the middle of the road, waving both arms in a gesture for us to stop. Ice slows to a stop before her.

  She looks unarmed.

  Not dangerous.

  “Watch my three and nine, keep an eye on your sixes,” Eliana radios through as the woman approaches the ‘Cuda. Eliana leaves the transmission open so we can hear what’s being said.

  “I can get you to safety,” she offers Ice and Eliana.

  Giving her the once or twice over, she’s a clean looking woman, mid-sixties by the look of her. Her gray hair is pulled back in a ponytail and her clothes make me think she might be religious. Her demeanor isn’t offensive, meaning no one expects her to attack our caravan. I hope to God this isn’t an ambush.

  “We’re just passing through,” Ice says.

  “Not now you aren’t,” she replies. “Those people you ran over back there…they’re going to put the word out about you. They’re going to kill you and take your things. If you look, you can already see them on their bikes peddling to wherever to talk with whomever. If you want to survive, you’ll need to lay low for a few days.”

  “We can’t do that,” Eliana says.

  “If you want to make it out of this city, you will,” she says with conviction.

  “What do you suggest?” Ice asks.

  “Like I said, I can help you get to safety. You’ll need to pull your weight, but we have people. Places to stay.”

  “Why are you helping us?” Eliana asks.

  “I had a dream about a bus wrapped in static. I saw this place, this time, all three of these vehicles. The static in my dreams, I realized, was barbed wire. Now here you are, all wrapped in it and driving through the deviant circus.”

  “Are you a psychic?” Bianca asks from the back seat of the ‘Cuda.

  “I have been known to have psychic abilities, but my last husband was a total jackass, so they’re only half right. Am I right about you? I’m not making a mistake taking you in, am I?”

  “You’re not,” Ice says, his conviction now matching hers.

  “Follow me then,” she says. She walks to the side of the road, picks up an old ten-speed bike then pedals off the freeway, taking us to a place called Sky Harbor Apartments.

  “Are we sure about this?” I ask Ice with the walkie-talkie.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Be ready to bolt,” I tell him.

  “Roger that.”

  The woman shows us where to park our vehicles. They’re out of the view of others, specifically the mob who attacked us.

  “We’ll cover the cars with tarps when you’ve got what you need,” she says. “We don’t want to be advertising your whereabouts.”

  “This is dangerous for you,” Eliana says.

  “Taking you in?”

  “Yes.”

  “We’re good Christians,” she says. “We live in the service of God, and had I not had that dream, you would not be here. But I did, and now you are.”

  “Thank you,” Ice says.

  We all thank her.

  Then, when we’re unloaded and everyone has something in hand, she introduces a few people to us, then shows us to a half dozen vacant apartments. “Pick which ones you want,” she says. “It looks like three should do.”

  “And then?” I ask.

  “I’ll properly introduce you to group,” she says. “We work next door at Sutherland’s Lumber. That’s why things look relatively vacant here.”

  “What are they doing there?” Brooklyn asks.

  She takes her mother’s arm protectively. My eyes go to Orlando and Veronica. They’re side by side, too. Everyone else is sort of gathered around her in a semi-circle. The fact that o
ur host doesn’t seem worried about us is comforting.

  “We’re currently building walls we can use to block off entrances to the apartments. We’re converting this into a compound. The highway was bombed in the initial hit. The overpasses have collapsed. Most of them anyway. For awhile, there wasn’t much traffic, so this seemed like the ideal location.”

  “And now it’s not?” Xavier asks.

  She shakes her head, her dark expression telling. “Those idiots up there, the ones you encountered,” she says, her brows pulling together with a sadness she isn’t trying to hide, “they killed a few of our people.”

  “I’m sorry,” Adeline says, touching her arm.

  “It’s dangerous right now, being here, but as more people out there die, it’ll get safer in here for us. We just need to keep the riff raff out.”

  “So Interstate 80 and the 215 have collapsed?” I ask.

  She nods her head, solemnly.

  “How is your work force?” Xavier asks.

  “Light.”

  “We’ll help you while we lie low,” Draven offers.

  “We’re not freeloaders,” Nyanath adds. Nasr is standing next to her with his bloody spear in hand.

  “How do you feel about group prayer?” she asks. “I did tell you we’re Christians here, right?”

  We all kind of half nod, then Eliana says, “You did. And we’re fine with it.”

  “We pray shortly,” she says, pleased. “You can join us then I’ll introduce you to the others and get something to eat. Are you hungry?”

  “Is a frog’s ass watertight?” Chase asks.

  Eliana smacks him, then says, “Yes, we could use something to eat, if you can spare it.”

  Grinning, our host smiles at Chase, even though no one else does.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  It’s hard to believe we’ve spent almost two weeks at the Sky Harbor Apartments already. Then again, these are good people and in this world—so far—good people have been in short supply.

  It’s time to go, though. Everyone knows it.

  In our minds, half of us don’t want to leave. Out of our mouths, the truth often escapes us, though we don’t hold council over every little grumbling. While we’re here, we work hard to earn our keep, grateful for the beds, the food, the company. What more could we ask for? Plus, it doesn’t hurt that we’re not breathing campfire smoke day after day, or sitting in a car for fourteen hours straight.

  But when we agreed to lay low, this was never something we set out to do instead of going to California. Tempting as it may be to stay, it’s time to rip off that Band-Aid and just go. So now—after such a long reprieve and on our latest vote—it’s the majority rule that we leave.

  “I don’t want to go,” Nyanath says.

  She’s never wanted to go. It’s no secret she likes it here.

  “Me neither,” Nasr says. He takes his sister’s hand and they stand in our apartment in solidarity.

  Hearing this, seeing them digging in the way they are, it breaks my heart. We’ve been here less than two weeks. I was hoping it was short enough to prevent anyone from thinking about dropping roots, but I guess I was wrong. Now, thinking about leaving and not seeing them again…I don’t know…it feels like a piece of my heart is staying here with them.

  First, I try to accept this, but then I don’t. “No,” I say, my voice soft enough to betray my emotions.

  Nyanath smiles sadly, and to all of us gathered around, she says, “I love all of you, especially for taking us with you after everything our families have gone through. But I need a home and these people have embraced us.”

  “But we’re family,” Adeline says. “We’re your home.”

  “I know,” she replies, quietly.

  Part of me wants to make sure that no matter what, they come with us. We are a team, a group, a family.

  “I think I want to stay with them,” Xavier says.

  This startles me. Shakes me.

  No…

  “X, bro…,” I say. That’s all I can say. I can’t get any more words over this growing lump in my throat. “Why?”

  “We need him,” Nyanath says, stepping forward and taking his hand. “And he needs us.”

  My friend has a sad look on his face, like he knew it would come to this and was just waiting to break the news. Yet he’s as resolute as Nyanath and Nasr.

  “We’re a family,” Eliana says, firm. “We stay together.”

  “This is where we will always be together,” Nyanath says, patting her heart. “This is where all the love we have for you will remain forever alive. And we do love you. We love you and we’re grateful for you.”

  She starts to cry. Even Xavier starts showing signs of emotion.

  I guess if there’s any hope to be had, it’s that now he has something to feel for. Someplace to put the love he had for Giselle. I wasn’t sure if he would make it past the dark days of losing her, but maybe that’s what this is. I know Nyanath and Nasr will never be Giselle or his unborn child, but to him they are people worthy of his emotions, his protection, his faith, and for that I am eternally grateful.

  “Are you sure?” I ask him.

  He nods.

  I grab my friend in a big hug and say, “I’m going to miss the hell out of you.”

  He grips me tight and says, “You get your ass safely to California. And love your family. They’re yours now. Love them to death, brother.”

  I nod my head, tearing up, feeling enslaved to my emotions, I say, “I will.”

  “This is your chance, Fire. Make the best of it.”

  Nodding I say, “I will.”

  They give hugs all around, then we thank our hosts for everything. Looking at so many friendly faces, I can’t help thinking that if we weren’t going to see Rock, it would be easy to stay. They have the right idea: scavenge for food and supplies, stockpile their loot, wait out the chaos then get out of the city, establish a homestead, settle in and try to make a new life.

  “I’d like to drive the ‘Angry Eggplant,’” Draven says. He’s referring to the Barracuda. That’s what we all call it now.

  “I want to go with him,” Brooklyn says.

  Looking at the two of them, it dawns on me. They’re over their little rift and getting along much better. Looking at Adeline, I have that look in my eye. That question. Her unspoken response says she knows there’s something there and she’s okay with it. It’s also that look that says I should be okay with it as well. I have to trust. And Draven has been more sane these last two weeks than when we first left.

  Looking back at them, I say, “Who else is going with you?”

  “I’ll go,” Carolina says. Chase showed her how to use the fire extinguisher, so she says, “I’ll be the Angry Eggplant’s Fire Department.”

  “I want to go, too,” Bianca says. The two girls have officially become inseparable in these last ten days.

  Before we head out, as we’re loading up the Angry Eggplant and the bus, Nasr looks like he’s about to cry. He’s biting back the tears, but failing. For him, we stay longer, giving him extra love. When we’re driving off, I see the kid in the rear view mirror. He’s standing there, sobbing, Nyanath and Xavier holding him.

  “This freaking sucks,” Veronica says.

  We all agree.

  Orlando is sitting extra close to her a few feet back. She broke ranks and decided to take a bath yesterday, something we all chastised her for. But now she looks beautiful and she smells clean. Orlando can’t keep his hands off her. I don’t blame him. Looking at the stink pit that is my wife, and Eliana, the contrast is startling. I know there’s a tremendous amount of beauty hidden away, but truthfully, it sure would be nice to see it again.

  Sitting on a bus, sleeping on the ground and trying to stay warm by the fire after nearly two weeks of a bed and a roof over our heads sucks about fourteen tons of ass. I won’t lie, I miss the Salt Lake City compound. But we’re into Nevada now. Thirteen miles from Elko and three hundred miles from R
eno.

  Just outside of Elko, way up ahead, we see a car on the side of the road with some rough looking people outside it. But there’s also something else. There’s someone on the other side of the road, too. I squint my eyes, try to focus in on what I’m seeing.

  “Orlando, who has the binoculars?” I ask.

  “Draven’s got them, why?”

  He comes up front and I tell him to go sit back down. Then: “I think we might have a problem.”

  Ten seconds later something big, black and round comes hurtling at us like a missile.

  “Get down!” I scream, instinctively throwing my head to the left. Seconds later a bowling ball blasts the windshield’s protective bars like a cannon, exploding all over the glass, shattering the windshield.

  I slam on the brakes in a panic. Draven’s front end dips as he hits the brakes, too. I let off the brakes so I don’t jam him up, but then come to a complete stop.

  “Everyone okay?” I ask, spinning around.

  “Fire, what the hell?” Adeline asks, just as panicked as me. It’s hard to see through the spider-webbed glass, but I can see these pricks and I want to kill them.

  The vagrants in the road ahead, they have the equivalent of a very large balloon launcher aimed at us. The makeshift rubber slingshot is stretched across two lanes of highway and they aren’t armed with balloons. These freaking donkeys just launched a bowling ball at us.

  “Go through them,” Ice growls.

  “Yes,” Eliana hisses.

  “Alright then, everyone down,” I say. “Adeline, get in back and get behind a seat. Ice, get on the two-way with Draven. Let him know what’s up.”

  Adeline grabs my arm and won’t let go. The look in her eyes says she’s afraid she’s going to lose me. She might, but I won’t tell her that.

  “Go, babe.”

  Reluctantly she does.

  Ice grabs the walkie-talkie and says, “We’re going through these skunk bags. If you can swerve to hit one of them, do it.”

  “What the hell was that?” Draven asks.

  “They launched a bowling ball at us,” I tell him. “Looks like they’ve got some gigantic slingshot set up ahead.”