“Okay.”
A quick glance at Christie. Nothing needed to be spoken.
Jack popped open the door. As he shut it, he heard Christie lock it behind him.
He walked alongside the guard as he looked over the modifications on the Explorer.
The guard turned to Jack. “Double-walled spun-steel hybrid tires?”
“Yup.”
“Set you back a pretty penny.” The guard knelt down. “And these things?” He tapped the metal plates in front and rear of each tire. “Good thinking there.”
The guard didn’t get up. Jack wondered: Does he do an inspection like this with every vehicle that leaves the highway?
Maybe it’s time to flash the badge.
“But I got to tell you. Even these tires can be brought down.”
“Not by a bullet.”
“Oh, right. Sure. Not a single bullet. But you ever see those road chains? Two-, three-inch metal spikes, dozens of them on a chain? Could do real damage to even these tires.”
“Let’s hope I don’t run into any of them.”
The guard nodded and stood up, the effort of standing revealing that exercise wasn’t on his weekly agenda.
“You never know.”
The guard continued around to the front of the car. He smiled at the kids.
Or maybe it was a leer at Christie. With his face, it was hard to tell.
“Good front grill protection, and I imagine the body is all—”
“Reinforced steel. Special plate glass. Look, this gonna take much longer?”
The guard cocked his head.
“You in a rush? I’m just trying to do my job, Mr.—” he looked down at the papers “—Murphy. Just making sure you’re in good shape to head… up there.”
“Right.”
Jack took a breath and reached into his back pocket. The guard’s eyes followed him. Maybe smelling a tip? Did he supplement his income this way?
Jack flipped open the leather case, showing his shield.
“Whoa—NYPD. Guess you do know how to make a vehicle safe.” He took a few steps closer to Jack. “Imagine you got some weapons, too, hm?”
“A few.”
“We’re supposed to log any firearms.”
The guard held Jack’s gaze. “But fuck it. We’re in the same business, right? Right!”
As if…
“Okay, so I want to give you your road briefing… Officer. You’re leaving the highway now. Things will be different.”
“See, you take Nine-N to Eighty-six all the way to Paterville. Nice straight drive. And we haven’t had reports of any action in weeks.”
“Good to hear.”
“We know how to shoot up here. Still, you’ll bump into a bunch of checkpoints. Places where they’ll want you to stop. Ask where you’re going. Any latest news, that’s how you’ll hear.”
“And between the towns?”
The guard rubbed his chin.
“That’s where you gotta be careful. Don’t stop for anything. Keep your eyes open. With this vehicle, you should be in good shape. But it’s a no-man’s-land between the towns.”
“Thanks for the heads-up.”
The guard smiled. “In another hour or so, you’ll be at Paterville. Now, I hear those folks really know security. Good family place. So I heard.”
A nod.
“We done here?”
“Sure. Sure we are, Officer.”
The guard signaled to his partner. Slowly, the heavy duty barrier began to rise.
“You’re on your own now. Drive safe, be safe… take care of that lovely family you have in there.”
Jack walked back to the driver’s side. As soon as he grabbed the handle, Christie popped open the lock.
He slid in and shut the door.
The gate wasn’t quite all the way up.
“Dad,” Simon said, “can we finally go? This is boring.”
“Yeah. We’re all set,” Jack said. “Won’t be long now.”
The gate fully up, Jack gave the guard another glance, and left the protected world of the Northway for the weaving two-lane back road that would take them to Paterville.
15. The Mountains
“God, it’s like… everyone just left.”
Christie watched the deserted motels, bars, and ice cream and hot dog places—boarded up, some with windows and doors smashed, open to the elements—roll by.
Even the kids knew better than to ask if they could stop.
A pair of faded dancing bears advertised the Mountain View Chalet. Chunks of wood missing. For fuel, maybe? One bear with a gaping hole in its head. Target practice. The colors bleached by the elements and the sun.
Then a bar with a sign announcing FOOD SERVED ALL DAY.
The front door missing, all of the windows smashed.
“Guess nobody lives here anymore.”
“No tourists, no money.”
“Yet Paterville Camp survived.”
“Well, if they saw what was coming… if they took precautions, Paterville may be the only game in town now.”
Then Christie saw a handmade sign, big block letters dripping, on the side of the road.
APPROACHING DINGMAN’S FALLS. Then in smaller letters. BE PREPARED TO STOP!
Christie spoke quietly. “Did you know that there’d be so many of these stops?”
Jack shook his head. “Nothing in the brochure about them. No big deal.” Then: “Good to know that they’re trying to keep their towns safe.”
“If you say so.”
It was nearly four P.M.
They’d be at the camp soon. Time to wash up. And then sample some of the home-grown food that Paterville offered.
He passed a speed limit sign: 25 MPH. Get cars driving nice and slow through the town.
Just beyond it, a makeshift barrier—a sawhorse with a blinking yellow light at each end.
Jack slowed down.
He leaned over to Christie and whispered.
“God, what is this? Deliverance?”
But Simon had unplugged and immediately asked, “What’s deliverance?”
Christie turned to Simon as one of the locals walked up to the car, a big rifle hung over his shoulder.
“A movie about the mountains, honey.” She saw that even Kate had looked up, taking note of the men at the impromptu barrier.
The man by Jack’s window made a rolling motion with his hand.
Christie looked at the other men at the barrier. Five of them, all with rifles. As if expecting an invasion.
Guess they couldn’t get into the volunteer fire department.
“Afternoon, folks.”
The man leaned down to get a good look into the car and Christie got an equally good look at him. Eyes filmy. A little drunk.
Good combination, booze and bullets.
The guy did something weird with his mouth, as if removing a wad of gum that had become lodged in his cheek. Maybe shifting an errant tooth back into position.
“Afternoon,” Jack said.
Two other men had also come closer now. One of the younger guys seemed to have spotted Kate.
The man at the window tried to widen his eyes. “You folks stopping here, at Dingman’s Falls?”
Jack shook his head.
“Just passing through. We’re on our way to the Paterville Family Camp.”
The man looked away from the window.
“Figured that. Though right here in Dingman’s is real nice. Got the falls… nice people. Good town. And it’s clear. Know what I mean?”
“Clear?” Jack said.
“Nothing gets into town. Not past us. Nothing we don’t want. None of them… Can Heads. Me and the boys—well, you should see some of the trophies we got.”