III
“It’s a little tight, but there’ll be room enough.” he said.
I placed the box on the bed then went back inside to pack crossing Liz and the kids, coming out, all with boxes on the way. When I got inside Nancy was on a stool hunched over the map, itself flopped over the back of the sofa.
“We can’t go North,” I said.
“The city does thin out up there, look,” she said pointing. I came up behind her grumbling, wrapping my arms around her. The north side of the city was mostly wealthier people, until it stretched into the suburbs in that direction. As I looked at the map I noticed that there were more parks, more open space.
“We’ve got to do something,” she said under me.
“Will there be more space,” I said, feeling Nancy’s warmth come up from her skinny frame, it was, maybe, 9:30, “sure. Will there be fewer of them…”
“Sure.” Nancy finished.
“I don’t know.” I said, “Really there’s no way to tell.”
“Until they come.” Nancy said, wresting from my arms and turning around on the stool.
“Nancy,” I said wrapping my arms around her. “We’ll be fine.” She started to cry. I adopted a Howard Cocell voice; “Sure were a rag-tag band.” I said, she laughed into my chest still crying, I dropped the voice. “We’ll be okay,” I said, “We’ve got our heads on straight.”
“Maybe we should go north,” Nancy said, looking up at me.
“Nancy, the gas.”
She held me out at arms length, “You guys got plenty of gas. Besides, we can’t move the Streamline around indefinitely anyway.”
I sighed, “Lets worry about that less right now.”
Dad came back in, and said “I think we’re all ready to go.”
“Where are Liz and the kids?” Nancy asked
“Making a fort out of the bed in the back.” he said holding his hands out. “So where’re we going?”
Nancy stood up, “North,” she said nonchalantly, beginning a final sweep of the house for anything useful, “for a bit, anyway,” she finished, her voice echoing from the back hallway.
We left that morning, heading north, but crossing the east-west streets was becoming a hassle. No one would let us pull out for fear that we’d get ahead of them in line. There wasn’t much traffic moving north, but cars would pile up ten deep before someone going west wasn’t paying attention, then everyone would go out at once. Most of the people in line with us slipped into the westbound roads, that were full in both lanes. A few— two or three—cars were stalled out in the lanes, bottlenecking the road in. After a few hours my Dad started driving, and before I knew what he was doing he took a left and started going east. We got two blocks over before I could stop him, but the traffic seemed to be dissipating a little. I don’t know if it was because we went east, or because we were going north, but we just kept going in that direction.
The sun had already set when we’d gotten far enough north that we could find an empty stretch of woods to put the trailer in. By that time all the radio stations had gone into a relay mode and were all playing the same news loop, and safety precautions about decapitation and burning. There were reports of them in the south of the city near the airport.
The traffic slowed to a trickle when they got far enough north, but red taillights could still be seen moving slowly west. I figured that we would be pretty safe in the park and my father agreed quietly, but someone would need to stay up all night, and keep watch. Elizabeth and the kids went to bed quietly and at the same time in the bedroom in the Streamline. Nancy and I were sitting around the table after finishing dinner with my Dad. He said he’d take the first watch, and that we could sleep there. He’d stay up in the truck, and wake me up later. I’d have been grateful if I didn’t seem him leaving the Streamline with a rifle under one arm and a familiar bottle tucked under the other.
Nancy curled up under my arm, and I laid back with my head against the window, and neither of us said anything for a few moments. “He’ll be dead drunk in twenty minutes.” I said.
“Can you blame him?” Nancy said.
“Can I?”
She sighed at me.
“Where did he even get the whiskey?”
“He was fine today,” She said. “Wasn’t he?”
“He was fine,” I said. “how was your day with Liz and the kids?”
“Fine.” She said, “They played card games most of the day in the back.”
I disentangled myself from Nancy, “I should probably get a blunt object ready.” Liz looked at me with a pained expression, but then she just looked tired.
“You can go to bed,” I said, “you should go to bed.”
I’m a grown-up, thank you.”
“I know that. I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” She said shaking her head.
I found the crowbar that I’d hidden from the kids with the bullets above the sink. Liz wanted us to try and keep things from the kids for the time being, which I didn’t care about and just did. They were her kids. Nancy stood up and tiptoed over to me.
“I’ve been sitting around all day.” She said, trying to take the crowbar from me.
“What do you think I’ve been doing all day?”
She sat back down on the end of the couch.
“Fine,” I said, leaning back on the couch next to her. “But if anything happens, wake me up.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” I aked, and covered myself with a blanket and fell asleep.
“Okay, she said.
“It’s a little tight, but there’ll be room enough.” he said.
I placed the box on the bed then went back inside to pack crossing Liz and the kids, coming out, all with boxes on the way. When I got inside Nancy was on a stool hunched over the map, itself flopped over the back of the sofa.
“We can’t go North,” I said.
“The city does thin out up there, look,” she said pointing. I came up behind her grumbling, wrapping my arms around her. The north side of the city was mostly wealthier people, until it stretched into the suburbs in that direction. As I looked at the map I noticed that there were more parks, more open space.
“We’ve got to do something,” she said under me.
“Will there be more space,” I said, feeling Nancy’s warmth come up from her skinny frame, it was, maybe, 9:30, “sure. Will there be fewer of them…”
“Sure.” Nancy finished.
“I don’t know.” I said, “Really there’s no way to tell.”
“Until they come.” Nancy said, wresting from my arms and turning around on the stool.
“Nancy,” I said wrapping my arms around her. “We’ll be fine.” She started to cry. I adopted a Howard Cocell voice; “Sure were a rag-tag band.” I said, she laughed into my chest still crying, I dropped the voice. “We’ll be okay,” I said, “We’ve got our heads on straight.”
“Maybe we should go north,” Nancy said, looking up at me.
“Nancy, the gas.”
She held me out at arms length, “You guys got plenty of gas. Besides, we can’t move the Streamline around indefinitely anyway.”
I sighed, “Lets worry about that less right now.”
Dad came back in, and said “I think we’re all ready to go.”
“Where are Liz and the kids?” Nancy asked
“Making a fort out of the bed in the back.” he said holding his hands out. “So where’re we going?”
Nancy stood up, “North,” she said nonchalantly, beginning a final sweep of the house for anything useful, “for a bit, anyway,” she finished, her voice echoing from the back hallway.
We left that morning, heading north, but crossing the east-west streets was becoming a hassle. No one would let us pull out for fear that we’d get ahead of them in line. There wasn’t much traffic moving north, but cars would pile up ten deep before someone going west wasn’t paying attention, then everyone would go out at once. Most of the people in line with us slipped into the westbound roads, that were full in both lanes. A few— two or three—cars were stalled out in the lanes, bottlenecking the road in. After a few hours my Dad started driving, and before I knew what he was doing he took a left and started going east. We got two blocks over before I could stop him, but the traffic seemed to be dissipating a little. I don’t know if it was because we went east, or because we were going north, but we just kept going in that direction.
The sun had already set when we’d gotten far enough north that we could find an empty stretch of woods to put the trailer in. By that time all the radio stations had gone into a relay mode and were all playing the same news loop, and safety precautions about decapitation and burning. There were reports of them in the south of the city near the airport.
The traffic slowed to a trickle when they got far enough north, but red taillights could still be seen moving slowly west. I figured that we would be pretty safe in the park and my father agreed quietly, but someone would need to stay up all night, and keep watch. Elizabeth and the kids went to bed quietly and at the same time in the bedroom in the Streamline. Nancy and I were sitting around the table after finishing dinner with my Dad. He said he’d take the first watch, and that we could sleep there. He’d stay up in the truck, and wake me up later. I’d have been grateful if I didn’t seem him leaving the Streamline with a rifle under one arm and a familiar bottle tucked under the other.
Nancy curled up under my arm, and I laid back with my head against the window, and neither of us said anything for a few moments. “He’ll be dead drunk in twenty minutes.” I said.
“Can you blame him?” Nancy said.
“Can I?”
She sighed at me.
“Where did he even get the whiskey?”
“He was fine today,” She said. “Wasn’t he?”
“He was fine,” I said. “how was your day with Liz and the kids?”
“Fine.” She said, “They played card games most of the day in the back.”
I disentangled myself from Nancy, “I should probably get a blunt object ready.” Liz looked at me with a pained expression, but then she just looked tired.
“You can go to bed,” I said, “you should go to bed.”
I’m a grown-up, thank you.”
“I know that. I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” She said shaking her head.
I found the crowbar that I’d hidden from the kids with the bullets above the sink. Liz wanted us to try and keep things from the kids for the time being, which I didn’t care about and just did. They were her kids. Nancy stood up and tiptoed over to me.
“I’ve been sitting around all day.” She said, trying to take the crowbar from me.
“What do you think I’ve been doing all day?”
She sat back down on the end of the couch.
“Fine,” I said, leaning back on the couch next to her. “But if anything happens, wake me up.”
“Okay,” she said.
“Okay?” I aked, and covered myself with a blanket and fell asleep.
“Okay, she said.
