Hopefully Salvation would see it as that.
Salvation ran more like a Socialist society than a Democracy.
Malcolm found their means of transportation interesting. Having always been infatuated with classic cars, Malcolm found the new vehicle to be a boxed shorter version of the classic El Camino. It was a very basic bland ride.
How did they still have transportation?
“Oh, gas stopped right away,” Trey told him on the drive. “Not long after the outbreak and war we depleted gas supplies. There was a lot of violence around gasoline, I remember that. I was lucky, I grew food, and it was a bit more valuable. We moved to horses for a long time. Then when the virus took a breather, or went into remission, science started developing a new means of travel.”
“Why did they never go solar?” Malcolm asked. “I mean, they had the technology.”
“I think it was easier to make new models or convert old ones,” Trey replied. “But not everyone had a vehicle. Essential services and food workers were vital so I was fortunate. The farm was deemed essential in the early days. Still is for that matter. We supply a lot of corn.”
“How many people live in Salvation?”
“Millions. Hard to say. It took a while but they’re pretty self-sustaining. It occupies four states. But don’t get me wrong there are still a lot of farms that deliver to Salvation. So we aren’t protected, nor vital. If we stopped delivering they would just go on without us.”
“I saw one person my entire journey here,” Malcolm said. “Are they all dead, or in Salvation?’
“They’re out there. Just a lot less and spread out,” Trey told him. “Salvation let people in that were immune. Then they closed the gate.”
“Gate?” Malcolm chuckled. “You make it sound like there’s only one.”
“Yeah, there is only one. I mean, there could be more. But only one real way in. I heard it said that if you find the wall coming from the east you could follow it for days and never find the entrance.”
“Is it really a wall?” Malcolm shook his head. “I’m sorry for all these questions.”
“No, it’s all right. It’s really a wall. It took a decade to build.”
“What’s outside of it?’
“I don’t know what’s west of the entrance or east, but I know it’s a graveyard from the front.”
Malcolm thought perhaps Trey was speaking metaphorically, as if before the wall was a dead world.
It was a long drive and Malcolm felt his strength leaving him. Trey talked a lot. Told him about life after Malcolm had vanished and did so quite comfortably. So much so that before he passed out with fever, Malcolm had to ask.
“I’ve been so swept up with finding you that I didn’t get a chance to ask. Does it feel strange calling me ‘Dad’? I mean, with me being gone and not aging. If it does, please feel free to call me…”
“No. I’ll call you Dad because that is what you are. Doesn’t matter how old I am or how young you look, you are still my father.”
He reached over and laid his hand on Malcolm’s. It felt good to Malcolm and he gave a squeeze to his son’s hand before resting back, closing his eyes, and giving into the wave of tiredness that swept over him.
He slept off and on in some sort of car trance. Malcolm knew he was still fevered. He shivered a lot and his arm ached from his fingers to his shoulder.
Just before they arrived at Salvation, Malcolm sat up and knew he wasn’t going back to sleep. He was in awe of what was around him.
His son didn’t exaggerate.
Miles before they arrived, before the wall could even be seen, were abandoned cars. They were on the road and in the fields, a sea of them. Mixed in were trailers and campers, packed tight with very little space in between. There was so many that they inhibited anything from growing. The cars were old and weather worn, with paint missing and windows busted. Sheets and coverings used as make shift curtains in car windows were tattered and torn.
“What is all this?”
“They called it hopeful alley,” Trey said. “For as long as I could remember there were rumors that they would eventually open the gate. So people came here for help, for a better life, and for hope.”
The main road was an old highway with a narrow pathway down the center that was clear. And then the wall of Salvation came into focus.
If there was a city behind that wall, Malcolm sure couldn’t see it. The wall was huge. Gray and tall, it was a solid, smooth concrete structure. To him it looked as if they were keeping out some sort of undead invasion.
The closer they got to it; he could see graffiti on the wall. He couldn’t make out what it said and while trying to, Malcolm’s attention turned to the human remains.
Skeletal remains started on the road, one here, one there and then every fifty feet there were more, until like a blanket of snow, high and thick, there was nothing but body on top of body.
“Stop!” Malcolm instructed.
Trey did.
Malcolm opened the door.
“Dad?”
Ignoring his son’s call, Malcolm stepped out.
Bones were everywhere, in pieces. He covered his mouth with his hand, turning left to right. His heart sunk to his stomach causing a sickening feeling. The bones, bodies, cars all extended for as far as the eye could see.
“Dad?”
“Oh my God, all these people,” Malcolm said. “All these people. Is this what they do with their dead?”
“No, all these people were trying to get in. They died waiting.”
Malcolm whimpered. He saw emptiness on the way to his home and the amount of death and devastation that occurred while he was in stasis was confirmed right there and then. It was a reality check he didn’t want to take in.
“You said the virus has been dormant for some time. Is the city still closed to people, or is the wall just symbolic?”
“No, they let no one in. They are their own entity now. To those born inside, everything out here doesn’t exist. To those who remember, this is a nightmare they want to forget.”
“So they never leave?”
Trey shook his head. “It may be an empty world out here, but it’s a beautiful one and they will never come out to see it.”
“Why?”
“Dad, they won’t let me in if it gets dark and I need you to get in the car. Please. You need help.”
Malcolm obliged. He got back in the car and wondered if they’d even help him. Trey was confident they would.
“Trey, you said they don’t leave. Are they allowed?”
“I don’t know,” Trey replied as he drove. “And I don’t know if they’d want to. It’s a different world in there. You’ll see.” He paused and stared forward. “You’ll see.”
Not a minute passed after his father got back into the car before he complained that he felt dizzy, he rested his head back and passed out. Trey double checked to make sure his father was alive. He reacted to touch but wouldn’t wake up. Worried, Trey picked up the speed to get to Entrance B of Salvation.
The main gate was located on Highway 71 south of Scottsbluff, Nebraska. The rocky terrain of the Wildcat Hills was the perfect gift from nature as a foundation source for the great wall of Salvation.
Actually, Scottsbluff was the first safe city. It started there. From that, the wall it spread further, until Salvation was not just a safe and infection free zone, but a country of its own. It was as if the United States of America moved behind a great block of stone. It gave new meaning to the age old reference ‘Fortress America’.
The main entrance, in Trey’s recollection, hadn’t been used in years. The service area for trucks was used frequently. An entrance used by farmers and those hauling fuel was two miles west of the main gate.