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  CHAPTER 30

  The Caravan

  The new car pulling up was a compact—a steel-gray Civic, two doors, tiny compared to the big black SUV that had stopped them.

  No one said anything as the car pulled close and stopped, with Christie and her car now sandwiched between the vehicles.

  She looked at Kate, then Simon, forcing a smile.

  Though she imagined her kids might be beyond reassurance.

  Then, back to the car that had just stopped as a man got out.

  Full beard, sandy-brown hair, long. Denim shirt, sleeves rolled up. Jeans dotted with oil, grease… something black.

  Though a lot of things could look black when they dried.

  The man looked up at the sky, then to Christie.

  He also turned to her kids and nodded as he smiled.

  Then, sounding nearly ridiculous, “Hi.”

  Christie shook her head.

  “You mind telling me… us… what you and your…” She looked back to the men with the guns behind her. “…men are doing? Why you stopped us?”

  She had guessed he was a leader of the group.

  The man scratched the back of his neck and nodded. “Sure. But think, maybe, your kids could put their weapons down?”

  Christie looked at the man.

  “And your men, they will put theirs down as well?”

  As soon as she said that, she realized how crazy that must sound.

  What is she doing?

  Having a standoff with her kids in the front lines?

  “For their safety. For ours. Maybe…” Another smile… “…just lower them.”

  Christie turned to Kate and Simon and nodded. And they both pointed their guns to the ground.

  “Great. Now to your question…”

  The man took a step toward Christie.

  “First things first. I’m Sam Collier. Kinda leading this caravan here.” He gave a nod back to the line of cars that had created a roadblock.

  “Not sure why. But, anyway, I’m in charge.”

  “Caravan?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. And we seem to be heading the same direction as you. Maybe… for the same reason?”

  “We heard—someone told me—that there were people who had moved out to the Midwest. Michigan. That they had come together, figured how to make things better, get things to grow. Turn things around.”

  Another smile from the man, and Christie noticed that his smile was laced with sadness.

  And Christie had to wonder, Are we all chasing a myth?

  Like the Flying Dutchman?

  Doing all that travel, taking all those chances for…

  There was a word she taught when covering Greek and Roman mythology with her mostly disinterested students.

  A chimera.

  “Heard the same thing. Though more than just heard.”

  The man looked right at Christie, and she had the feeling he was about to tell her something, but then he had first weighed the advisability of sharing it.

  “I worked on this team. Researchers. CDC. Like a lot of teams. Trying to learn what we could. At first, about the human cannibals—”

  “The Can Heads,” Christie said.

  “Yes. If that’s what we must call them. But then, despite the drought, despite the changes in climate, what really made so many crops fail? Why did so many plants die, as if whatever once drove their growth had suddenly ended?”

  “Doc,” a voice said from behind, “we best get moving.”

  The man talking to Christie nodded.

  “Yeah. Look. Not the place for a history lecture here.”

  “Why did you stop us?”

  “We didn’t know how you were, why you were on this road. Maybe following us? Maybe tracking us?”

  “We’re alone,” Christie said. “Obviously.”

  “I see. Look, we’re very cautious. Always watching. Who’s behind us, who’s in front. What we’re heading into. But now that you’re here…”

  He looked at her kids and Ben standing there looking—a gentle giant beside them.

  Doubt he understands too much of what’s going on here, she thought.

  “Why not join us? Probably heading to the same place and—”

  “Doc.”

  Again the voice form a one of the men behind Christie who—she reminded herself—all held powerful guns. “Things like that the group needs to vote on.”

  Again Sam Collier, “Doc”—a scientist—scratched his head. “I know, I know. We’ll vote. Um, for now, they can come. I’m sure the group will be okay with it, Rob. We can save the vote for later.”

  A pause, no one saying anything, and Christie guessed that everything didn’t always go smoothly in this travelling band.

  “So join us. For now?”

  He made a side-long glance at her kids as if messaging, Think of them.

  And Christie could face the obvious.

  Better chance of surviving, of getting there—if they worked with others.

  Not a lot different from the days of the Oregon Trail, she thought.

  “And this caravan… it has rules?”

  “Can tell you all that later. Not a lot.” Then he turned to the men with the guns. “After the vote.”

  And Christie thought a second.

  So hard to tell these days what was a good decision, a bad one—and what could be a fatal one.

  In fact, are there any good decisions at all?

  “Okay,” she said. “At least for tonight.”

  And Sam smiled. “Good. Now, we’ve been stopped here for a while, You got gas supplies… food?”

  She nodded.

  “Great. Then we’d best get going. Still a lot of miles to cover.”

  And the leader walked back to his car.

  And without knowing much more than she and these people had a common goal, and that they were cautious, even guarded, Christie felt relief as he pulled away.

  The men with guns got back into their big SUV, and Christie walked back to her car, giving the kids what she thought was a hopeful smile.

  “Okay, kids, let’s go.”

  And she braced herself for what she thought would be a lot of questioning from the kids, once the doors were shut and they joined the long caravan of cars heading west.

  But the flood of questions didn’t come.

  Somehow, the kids maybe picked up on Christie’s flicker of trust in the man they called “Doc.”

  Or, maybe the idea of not alone after so many days of running, all on their own, had taken its toll.

  Kate did have a few pointed questions.

  “Mom, what do you think the rules will be?”

  “Not sure, Kate.”

  All of that standing had caused the pain in Christie’s leg to flare up, and driving was becoming difficult.

  She’d have to let Kate take over again soon.

  “They can’t have our guns,” Kate said.

  Christie nodded. “Right.”

  “Or our food,” Simon added. “We found it. It’s ours.”

  “That too, Simon.”

  Nothing for a few moments, then Kate, “It can’t be like that other place. They had us trapped there.”

  When Christie had gotten into the car, she again checked that her gun was firmly nestled between the driver’s seat and the door.

  None of what the kids feared would be allowed to happen. One way or the other, she thought.

  She saw Ben, sitting in the back.

  He was looking out the window as Christie drove close to the line of cars, falling into line behind a silvery, beat-up Toyota that had lost all it hubcaps.

  The caravan began moving.

  But Ben’s face, normally so open, at ease, now seemed troubled, brow furrowed, eyes narrowed.

  “Ben,” she said. “You okay?”

  He turned and looked into the rear view mirror, his eyes on hers.

  “Yes, Mrs.… Christie. It’s just that…”

  He hesitated.

  “�
�I don’t know these people.”

  Christie smiled. This giant of a man needed reassurance as well.

  “Neither do I, Ben. All strangers. But what they’re doing, travelling together, watching out for each other, it makes sense.”

  She looked away from the road, the cars ahead, to look right into his eyes. “That make sense to you?”

  It took a few seconds. But then Ben nodded. “Sure.”

  Then, less sure… “Guess so.”

  Which is when Simon did an amazing thing…

  He patted Ben’s right shoulder, a massive thing, a football player’s shoulder.

  “Ben, we’re together. If it’s not a good thing, we’ll all know. And we won’t stay.”

  And that made the man smile.

  He had to have been on his own for such a long time, she knew.

  Must be amazing to now be part of this… family.

  *

  And the caravan rolled on, at a slow steady pace, stopping only to allow cars to refuel with their tanks, some people looking back at Christie’s car, her family, this new addition, as the sun started to edge closer to the horizon.

  And night began to fall.

  CHAPTER 31

  We Stop at Night

  The caravan pulled off the highway, with the sun still above the horizon but night close.

  Christie slowed down. She couldn’t wait to get out of the driver’s seat, to stretch her wounded leg out.

  This can’t be good for the stitches, the healing, she thought.

  Tomorrow, Kate would drive.

  Apparently one of the cars had gone ahead and found a place for them to stop for the night.

  And now the row of cars wound its way off the highway, to a two-lane blacktop road that seemed to lead nowhere.

  Barren fields on either side, still in the grips of a winter chill, though spring—and whatever that would bring—was only weeks away.

  And the evening seemed almost balmy. Christie had her window down.

  The air cool, but refreshing, and when the road veered to the left, she was driving with the low-hanging sun right in her eyes.

  In a few minutes, the lead cars pulled off the road onto a dirt driveway.

  To a farmhouse. A barn. And a field.

  Back in the day they grew corn here. Maybe had livestock, chickens?

  Now deserted. Farms like this had vanished everywhere.

  The cars stopped, and someone from the lead car, a middle-aged woman in jeans, with frizzy black hair speckled with gray, came back to her.

  Christie saw she held what looked like an old-fashioned walkie-talkie in her hand.

  “We’re going to make our circle here,” she said.

  “Circle?”

  “Just, um, do what I do.”

  The woman then hurried back to her car.

  “We’re staying here tonight?” Simon asked.

  “Yes. Looks that way.”

  “In that house?” Kate asked. “Or the barn?”

  Kate didn’t sound thrilled.

  But then Ben said, “I’ve never slept in a barn.”

  And everyone laughed.

  The line began moving again, the circle beginning to form.

  The cars formed a circle tight against the farmhouse and barn.

  When Christie had stopped, leaving a couple of yards between her and the car in front, the same woman got out and gestured to her to come closer, make the circle tighter.

  Christie nodded.

  And then finally she could shut off the engine, dying to get out. As painful as walking could be, it would be so much better than sitting here.

  Simon beat her to getting outside.

  There were other kids here.

  And those kids looked at Simon. Some older boys. A girl that looked near his age. Even a toddler, stumbling around.

  As Christie popped her door and got out, she saw a young mother with a baby.

  A baby.

  Such a sign of hope, she thought. A future.

  That’s what a baby was, even when the world was falling apart.

  Must have always been that way.

  Kate came up to her. “Where we sleeping, Mom?”

  Christie looked around for Sam—the man they called “Doc”. She spotted him at one end of the circle, talking to people with rifles as he pointed left and then right.

  “Not sure, Kate. I’ll find out. Maybe the house. Maybe the barn.” She took a breath. “If we have to, maybe the car.”

  Kate rolled her eyes at that.

  Admittedly, the four of them sandwiched into the car didn’t sound too appealing.

  And they all knew how loudly Ben snored!

  And funny. It was good to see a little of the old Kate just then, as if her daughter for a moment felt that she didn’t always have to be so strong, always holding things together.

  Just a bit of teenage girl there.

  And that—like the baby—also represented hope.

  “Okay to explore a bit?” Simon asked. “Just walk around?”

  Christie looked at the tight circle of cars. The people that Sam had been talking to began to walk to different spots in the circle.

  A few other people began stacking a pile of wood in the center of the circle. Mostly some splintery fence posts, but then Christie saw chunks of furniture being dragged out of the house.

  A rocking chair. A bookcase. Some straight-backed kitchen chairs.

  The sun nearly down, and in a minute, someone set fire to all that wood.

  “Sure,” she said. “Just stay inside the circle. We can eat some food in a bit.”

  She forced a smile.

  “Okay?”

  Simon nodded, and with his new guardian in tow—the lumbering Ben like his special giant—Simon started walking around the circle.

  Been a while since he’s been with other kids, Christie thought.

  And that was something she knew he liked.

  To explore, to play.

  To get into trouble.

  “How about you, Kate?”

  “I’ll take a walk too.” Then she added pointedly, Kate’s guard never even getting close to being let down. “Take a look at everyone.”

  Christie nodded.

  And then she was alone, the people with rifles positioning themselves around the circle, the fire now growing.

  Way more than a campfire, massive, and with the barn and house part of that circle… more wood close by, posts, planks.

  After all, tomorrow they’d just move on.

  And when the sun finally slipped below the horizon, she started walking to the warmth, to the glow of that great fire.

  *

  Someone touched her elbow.

  She turned to see Sam, standing there, warm smile on his face.

  “Settling in?”

  Christie looked around the circle of cars.

  “I used to teach history. You steal this idea from the settlers heading west?”

  Sam looked away, grinning, then back to Christie. “It worked for them. We keep guards all night on the perimeter, in shifts.”

  “‘Circle the wagons.’”

  “Why, reckon that’s the i-dea, ma’am.”

  And Christie laughed at that, thinking, Been a while since I laughed.

  She saw a car outside the circle though—a dark maroon, with giant fins, backlit by the glow from the setting sun.

  “That car, not in the circle, is there…?”

  Sam looked at the direction she pointed. “Oh, right. Well, when we travel we’re always scouting—another wild-west technique I guess!—in front and in back. And that… is our fastest car.”

  “What’s it going to do?”

  “Do just that—scout. Different teams take it out. It’s what they used to call—in the day—a muscle car. Real fast. Any trouble ahead for the morning—”

  “Or in the night—”

  “Yeah, that too. Well, it comes back, tells me, the other people.”

  “Smart idea.”

&nbs
p; Christie watched the car pull away, racing down the dirt road, vanishing into the darkness until just its twin headlights could be seen winding away.

  Then she turned back to Sam.

  “Mind if we sit? It’s hard on my leg.”

  The man nodded. “Sure. There are some stumps by the fire. Nice night. What happened? Something bad? To your leg?”

  Christie nodded. “Something? Could say that…”

  And she walked along with him to the giant fire shooting glowing yellow spikes into the sky.

  *

  After Christie had told him what happened to her leg, Sam asked where they had come from.

  And the big question…

  Why were they on their own?

  Christie hesitated for a moment.

  So much to tell. Their history. All the terrible things. And Jack’s sacrifice that saved them all.

  How they had all changed.

  And though she felt like she didn’t want to talk about any of it, somehow the man’s voice—the way he asked a question, then let silence sit there for a moment—made Christie tell it all.

  Fast as she could.

  Not dwelling on any moment more terrible than the other.

  Thinking she was holding it together.

  But when she finished, she was crying, tears running down her cheeks despite how quickly she dabbed at her eyes with her sleeve.

  For a moment she thought Sam would put an arm around her.

  And that, she knew, would only make it worse.

  Instead—in a quiet, steady way—he just sat there.

  And when her tears stopped, and she took a big breath, ready to move on as the tear trails dried on her cheek, he said, “You have been through so much.”

  The obvious.

  But it was enough for her to turn to him, a sad smile on her face, “Why yes I have.”

  Then, “One thing I can tell you. I talked to the others. If you want… you can stay with us. Move along with us. You won’t be alone.”

  “Really? Everyone here okay with that?”

  And now Sam laughed.

  “Not everyone. Pretty—um—diverse group. But you got the votes. People here still have a heart. Most of them, anyway.”

  Then, quietly, “Thanks.”

  “Now you just need to decide.”

  “Stay… or go?”

  Christie looked at the man’s eyes. She knew nearly nothing about him, but she felt safer—even supported—sitting here with him.

  She saw Simon over with other kids.