It was almost dawn when Erin Swails nudged Justin awake with the toe of her boot. At first he was confused and alarmed, as usual, but then he recalled what was going on and struggled out of his sleeping bag.
“Is it my turn?” he whispered. “On watch?”
Erin nodded, but didn’t go back to her sleeping bag. Justin put on his boots and joined her. They stood and watched the first rays of sunlight peep over the horizon, where a clear sky belied the mass of angry black clouds rolling in from the west. The landscape around them, deathly still for most of the night, now began to stir; here a prairie dog scampered, there a flock of small brown birds took flight, and from the grass and weeds around them came occasional rustles. Interesting, thought Justin, how the greater Animal World had been affected by the Fall only inasmuch as it was an absolute boon. With all those people no longer trapping and poisoning and hunting them, they’d more or less run riot. It was their world now.
“Think we’ll make it?” asked Erin, out of the blue. “I mean, do you really think we can do it?”
“I think,” said Justin, staring at the sunrise, “that we stand a good chance. We’ve been through a lot and we undoubtedly will face even more, but we’ve come this far. Who’s to say how far we could get?”
“Yeah,” said Erin thoughtfully. “It’s weird, though, isn’t it? I mean, all the people we lost along the way. Sometimes I have a hard time even thinking about it.”
“I know,” nodded Justin. “I sometimes have nightmares.”
“You too, huh?” said Erin. “Well, that’s kind of a relief, I guess. It’s just hard to wrap your head around, you know? I mean, first there’s the Fall, right? And then I guess I thought, well, that’s that. A whole lot of people are dead, but it’s over and we’ll just have to find a way to pick up the pieces. You know? And then you discovered the virus’s mutability, and we were forced to go on this trip. And, well, maybe I just wasn’t ready for what happened, or maybe I just didn’t want to think about how bad it could be, you know, with no cops or anything, but whatever it was, this trip sort of made it all just that much worse. Like, what more could happen to us, you know? We survived the Fall, just to get shot or stabbed by some idiot yokel with an Armageddon complex? I don’t know, it all just seems kind of surreal.”
“Of course it does,” said Justin. “And I think we all feel that way sometimes. But we’re close, now. Just a few days, across the desert, and we’ll be there!”
Erin brightened, “Yeah, I guess I hadn’t thought of that. Are we really that close?”
“Yes,” he said. “At least geographically speaking.”
He was going to add more in the way of encouragement but was interrupted as the others now began to stir and emerge from the tent. First out was Cornell, who immediately scanned their surroundings before his gaze settled on the huge storm clouds. Justin hadn’t noticed while he’d been talking with Swails, but now he saw with some alarm that the cloudbank had crept much closer and seemed to be piling up in the sky like mountains.
“We’re in for a storm,” said Cornell needlessly. “And from the looks of it, a big one.”
“I think you’re right,” Justin said. “But what can we do? I mean, we could shelter in the tent, or the car. But what else?”
“Not much,” said Cornell grimly. “But I’d say we’d wanna avoid the tent. Storm like this, blow that little thing all to pieces. There’s that farmhouse over there. The main house is burned down, but there’s some outbuildings. Maybe one’a those would do.”
“Yes,” said Justin, watching in awe as great forks of lightning flashed in the clouds, “maybe we should do that.”
“Holy shit, lookit that!” came Mr. Lampert’s voice as he tottered from the shelter. “That is one helluva storm!”
“Yes,” said Justin dryly. “We’d noticed.”
“Uh huh,” Lampert sneered. “And didya also notice that it’s a wall cloud? That it’s probably gonna generate a fuckin’ tornado or two? Didya notice that, brainiac?”
“A what?” said Justin, glancing from the Old Man and back to the clouds. “A wall cloud? A tornado? Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m not fucking sure,” said Lampert. “But I’ve seen enough storms in my life to know when I’m lookin’ at a bad one, and I am lookin’ at one right now.”
Justin looked over at Cornell. “What do you think? Is it that serious?”
The other man shrugged. “Not sure. We didn’t get too many twisters in Arizona.”
“Well we did in Minnesota,” said Lampert. “Plenty of ‘em. Trust me.”
Cornell took his eyes from the storm and gave Justin a questioning look. “Well, Doc?” he said. “How’s about it? Way I see it, we got three choices. One, we can get in the car, like right this minute, and try to outrun the storm. Two, we could just hunker down in the car and hope that we don’t get picked up by a tornado. Or three, we could see if them outbuildings are any good. Whatever you choose, though, I think you’d better do it pretty damn quick, you know?”
“Yes,” frowned Justin, “I think you’re right. Our best bet is to shelter in the safest place possible, and right now that appears to be these farm buildings. So let’s pack up and get going. OK, everybody?”
Most of the others shrugged in acquiescence. If they weren’t exactly thrilled with his choice, at least they had no better plan. They all fell to, taking down and stowing the tent, their sleeping bags, and personal gear (such as it was), and glancing nervously at the burgeoning cloudbank. Before they’d shoved the last of it into the car, heavy drops of rain began to fall around them and the wind had freshened to a humid, lashing gale.
“What about the car?” Justin asked Cornell. “That is, should we try to find somewhere to put it, out of the storm?”
Cornell thought for a moment before shaking his head. “No time,” he said. “And besides, if a twister big enough to haul that thing away comes along, we’re gonna have a lot more to worry about than the car.”
Justin hesitated, loath to leave their best hope, the precious car, behind, even for a moment, but the fall of thick drops on his head and face made up his mind and he nodded to Cornell.
“OK, let’s go,” he said.
They started out, Cornell in the lead, followed by Cass, carrying the Old Man. Next was Bowler, then Erin Swails, and lastly Justin. It wasn’t that far to the farm, maybe a half-mile, and the ground was open and flat, presenting no obstacle, but still, they were a little too late. The storm hit them in the open.
When the short, wiry man in black rags suddenly appeared in their path, brandishing an exotic-looking rifle of some kind, Justin at first thought he was hallucinating; maybe that horrible rotgut booze had affected his brain somehow. But the others, all stopping dead in their tracks, obviously saw the man as well, so that was out. No, odd and completely unexpected as his appearance was, the man must be real. But what was he doing here, and why?
“Hold it right there,” said the man, loudly enough to be heard over the rising wind.
Justin and the others all did so, crowding together around Cass and Mr. Lampert and raising their hands in surrender.
“You, bald dude,” said the stranger, motioning with his weapon at Cornell. “Throw down them weapons. Now.”
Slowly, the rain starting to really pelt down on them now, Cornell did as told, withdrawing a pistol and a hunting knife from his belt and tossing them to the ground. The stranger nodded.
“Now,” he said, his voice odd and uninflected, “you, the big woman and the old man. Come over here.”
Justin took a couple of steps forward, putting himself between the stranger and Mr. Lampert. Instantly, the rifle turned to him and he stopped and raised both hands above his head.