The farther north they traveled, the less important it seemed that they stick to the highway. Robby suspected that somewhere beneath the snow, the landscape was being transformed to facilitate the growth of the new organism now inhabiting Earth. But the snow was deeper. Robby compared the elevation reported by the GPS to the paper map on his lap and the difference was at one-hundred feet and growing. The contours of the landscape—frozen rivers and bridges, houses and trees—everything was buried so far beneath the snow that it didn’t affect their tractors and sleds. Soon they might be able to ignore the GPS completely and use their compass heading alone.
The satellite icon jumped back to the corner of the display and the blue arrow appeared again. GPS lock returned. Robby reached behind the seat and pulled out another warm, sugar-filled soda. He knew the effect wouldn’t last forever. When they were younger, he and Jim used to drink a lot of sodas on Saturday nights. They tried for weeks to stay up all night, but they never made it past four in the morning. Eventually no matter how much sugar and caffeine they drank, sleep would overtake them and they’d pass out in front of the television. At some point during the night it always felt like the soda was doing more harm than good. Each sip would wake him up a tiny bit but then hasten the inevitable crash. Robby hoped the little catnaps he’d stolen while Brynn drove were enough to stave off sleep during this trip.
“This is Lisa,” the radio reported. Her check-in was out of order and more than a minute early.
“What’s up, Lisa?" Pete asked.
“I can’t stay awake any longer. I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve fallen asleep at least a half-dozen times in the past few minutes,” Lisa said.
“Okay?” Pete said. “Anyone else? What do we do here?”
“Sleep in our vehicles?” Romie asked.
“Let’s stop for a minute and talk this through,” Nate said.
“Good idea,” Pete said. “I’m stopping.”
It took a few moments for the slowdown to propagate through the convoy, but eventually Robby recognized the sled in front of him was slowing. He let up off his own throttle and let the tractor slow to an idle. He leaned down and looked at the arm. It stopped swinging.
“Where are we going to meet?” Brynn asked.
“I assume up at the head of the line,” Robby said.
Robby pulled on this jacket and began to lace up his boots.
“How long are we going to stop?” Brynn asked.
“While we’re stopped, do you want to grab one of the others and go use the the bathroom?” Robby asked.
Brynn nodded. He zipped up his jacket and pulled the hood tight.
“Who?” Robby asked.
“Sheila,” Brynn said.
Robby tried to think of what to say, but Brynn retracted before Robby could come up with anything.
“Not Sheila, I meant Lisa,” Brynn said, blushing.
“Okay,” Robby said. “You track her down and let her know when we get up there.”
The radio cut into their conversation—“You guys want to meet us up here?” Pete’s voice asked from the radio.
“Be right there,” Brad said. Robby and Brynn heard the wind whispering behind Brad’s voice. A second later they saw him walk by the cab of their tractor. He was headed towards the front of the line.
“Yes, we’ll be there in a minute or two. This is Robby and Brynn,” Robby said.
The others chimed in soon after.
The cold air on his face woke him up better than the soda. Robby enjoyed the sensation even though the night was uncomfortably dark. Robby and Brynn moved in Brad’s wide tracks. As they passed by Nate’s trailer of corpses, Robby listened to the tarp flapping in the night wind. They found a pool of darkness between the tractors; a spot where the headlights from their own tractor were blocked by the stack of bodies, and they hadn’t yet passed into the grace of the running lights of Nate’s tractor. Here, the wind seemed stronger, and the flapping from the tarp a little louder. Robby felt Brynn move closer behind him when the tips of Brynn’s snowshoes tripped up the tails of his.
“Sorry,” Brynn whispered into the wind.
“You want to jog?” Robby asked.
“Yes,” Brynn said.
They shuffled faster. The snow here was easier to walk on. The shoes only seemed to disturb the top few inches of snow and didn’t sink down at all. On the island, snow was shoveled or plowed so fast they never saw much call for snowshoes, but Robby had learned the trick at his grandmother’s house. Robby relaxed a little when he saw Nate standing near the back of his tractor’s cab. Nate was emptying a blue jug of fuel into the tractor’s tank.
“You coming?” Robby asked.
“Yup,” Nate said. They waited for him while he finished his task and then climbed down into the snow. “You guys go first and I’ll walk in your tracks.”
The three headed up the line of tractors, passing into the darkness alongside Romie’s sled. Robby stayed in front, picking out Brad’s tracks with his headlamp.
“I don’t think you guys need those,” Nate said.
“Need what?” Robby asked.
“Those shoes,” Nate said. “Look.”
Robby turned back, aware of the sled full of corpses to his side, and annoyed at the delay in the darkness. Nate was using his foot to sweep away the snow from a small area. Robby and Brynn huddled around him to see his discovery. Under about ten inches of powder, a thick, clear layer of ice supported them. When all the snow was cleared away, the ice looked like glass over pure blackness.
“Cool,” Brynn said. His hands flew to the straps on his shoes and he shed them with quick motions. With his shoes off, he ran off to the north towards the bobbing headlamps of the rest of the group.
“He has to pee,” Robby said to Nate. “He wants Lisa to take him.”
“I figured,” Nate said. “Let’s catch up. These bodies are creepy.”
Nate picked up Brynn’s snowshoes and Robby removed his own. They jogged the length of three trailers to find Romie, Lisa, and Christine talking to Brynn. The women decided to head out together to heed nature’s call. Nate leaned Brynn’s snowshoes against the tracks of the tractor, next to where the women had leaned theirs.
Nate and Robby continued on to meet up with Pete and Brad. They didn’t make it very far. After only a dozen steps, they stopped when the wind brought them Romie’s scream. The wind also kicked up a swirl of snow, so they couldn’t spot the group of women.
“Brynn!” Nate shouted, but his voice was swallowed by the gust.
Nate sprinted away from the convoy on a diagonal to intercept the group. Robby followed. All he could see ahead of him was the reflection of his lamp in the big flakes of snow. Robby reached up and covered his lamp so he could follow the dim glow of Nate’s light ahead of him. The wind brought another panicked cry from the women. Robby couldn’t tell who’s voice it was.
When Robby caught up with Nate, the man had reached the group of women. Brynn and Christine were on their knees in the snow. Lisa was on her stomach between them. Nate was straddling Lisa, and the two of them were reaching down into the snow. Robby came up alongside Christine and followed her gaze down.
Lisa and Nate were gripping Romie’s hands. Romie was so deep into the snow that only her hands projected up above the loose powder.
“Pull!” Nate said.
“I’m trying,” Lisa said.
“What happened?” Robby asked Christine.
Christine didn’t answer. She was trying to lean down far enough to grab Romie’s jacket. Christine withdrew, pulled off her glove and managed to get a grip on a piece of fabric. On the other side, Brynn tried to help too, but he couldn’t reach far enough. Robby circled and took Brynn’s place. The four of them managed to tug Romie up onto the ledge of ice. Everyone gasped for air by the time they got her to safety.