Day 18
7: Departure
It was early afternoon when we left Haven. The town seemed to vanish behind us as we came in range of the nobody-here field, and then we were on our own. The van, the van where we'd spent so much time suffering – Dana especially – was now comfortable and well supplied. I couldn't help but feel that this trip would be the reverse of the last. Then we'd left a prison and ended up safe, now we'd left our haven and would likely end up imprisoned... if we were lucky.
Jamie was nervous. For all her previous bravado, and for the brave exterior she was trying to show now, inside she was reprimanding herself for going along with such an insane idea. She wasn't accustomed to this sort of life. Before she'd met Dana, before we'd dragged her down to our level, she'd been just another person, getting on with her life. But at some point her parents had arranged a tour of the Afflicted zone, and it had changed her. We hadn't taken her on many ops before the one that ended in the siege. The most dangerous previous to that was a smuggling operation, but that particular one had been safe, comparatively. The siege had left her wary of further operations. She ignored it, though, determined to press on. I felt simultaneously proud of her and guilty for getting her into this mess. If I hadn't accidentally declared my intentions that memorable day, she might very well be safe back in Haven.
Dana, on the other hand, was happy. This confused me until I realized that it wasn't a joyous happy, it wasn't the happiness a person felt upon doing a good deed. It was a bitter feeling, a feeling of finally beginning to do what should have been done a long time ago. She felt guilt over having let my father go, that much I knew, as though it had been her responsibility. There was something else, too. There'd always been an undercurrent whenever she was thinking of my dad, and I'd never dared touch it. They were private, those thoughts. I felt bad enough reading as deeply as I had.
I concentrated on the scenery, which was a great deal more interesting in daylight. Dana was driving and was taking the journey slow, as the condition of the road hadn't improved at all in the past few days. I found myself wondering if anyone in Haven was in charge of making sure that people could actually get to their town.
Finally, we were at the bottom of the road. The treatment plants churned further ahead, but luckily those weren't our destinations. We turned right and started driving.
The first obstacle, Orin had informed us when we came to him for our van, would be getting on the highway. Paradise Highway, the road we'd turned onto, was anything but. The real thing was still down the road, and there was a full-fledged Trooper station at the entrance ramp. Between the time we'd arrived in Haven and the time we'd left, Orin had someone re-paint the van and fake up a new license plate and official travel papers. We were bound to Meadows, they said, there to pick up a few additional supplies we hadn't been able to get in Jordan Valley, and then to move further south to Kingman. The entire story was a fabrication, though the cities were more or less in the direction we were traveling, so if we were stopped at any other point the story should still hold up. I wasn't eager to verify that it would, however.
The van was quiet. I'd been listening in on everyone's thoughts because it was natural for me to do so when there was no conversation. Jamie was still gathering her strength in the back of the van, though she'd mostly succeeded by this point. Dana was thinking of the directions she'd been given, over and over, as though to memorize them. She did this despite the fact that she'd have to have memorized them to be repeating them to herself now.
Going was slow. At one point we all panicked because Dana spotted a Trooper car, driving up behind us pretty quickly. Jamie had to re-start her courage gathering at this point, and I found myself joining her in spirit. In fact, it occurred to me that I'd only been listening to other's feelings because I was trying to distract myself from the situation we were in.
The car never slowed down once, instead turning into the lane next to us and speeding by. The driver never even looked over at us. Another few minutes and he was gone. I felt everyone, including myself, relax.
It wasn't long after that we found where the car had gone. A faded sign announced that we were approaching a scenic town of some kind, though the sign was in too far a state of disrepair to read exactly what city we were entering. Whatever it was, the plague had clearly cleaned it out. There was no quarantine zone, for one – all major cities tended to have one. No reconstruction. Just old buildings falling farther into disrepair.
Roads had been blocked off. Wooden sawhorses with lights that no longer seemed to function stood on the side roads. Each sawhorse had a sign labeled “ABANDONED TO PLAGUE – ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK'. The city itself seemed large enough to house a stable population, which led me to wonder why it had been abandoned. More likely a battle was fought here during the war, and the left over ordinance and chemicals were providing the danger. The plague was a nice scapegoat for nearly everything these days.
Roadblocks slowly moved by as Dana let up on the gas. This road was the main road, yes, but it obviously was only barely maintained. Not to mention Troopers liked to set up surprise patrols in dead cities like this. It made catching people easy, and there was rarely anyone else around to see what happened once they did.
Turning a corner revealed the station, just as Orin had predicted. Where the rest of the city was windblown and ruined, the station was new. Not just restored the way Haven had been, but brand-new, built from the ground up sometime in the last five years. It stood behind a sign that indicated that the major highway entrance was a half mile.
The road widened at this point, and two Trooper cars were in the middle of it, their sides to us. Three troopers, two behind the cars and one between them and us, stood looking toward us warily. Even at this distance, I could feel their tension. There was no scheduled transport today. They'd been tipped off by their buddy who was now in the station, manning the radio in case something should go wrong out here.
By this point Dana had stopped the van and rolled down the windows. With a look to his other two Troopers, the one closest started walking toward us.
“I'm Trooper Mark Glidewell.” he said louder than he needed to, still closing the distance. “Stay in your vehicle while I inspect it. Have your traveling papers ready.”
Dana leaned out her window and produced the papers while Glidewell looked them over. I could feel his mind better now, and had to stifle a laugh when I realized he was more nervous than we were. Not because he was afraid we were insurgents bent on killing him, but because he and his friends thought that this was an undercover inspection! He was wearing his helmet, but I was sorely tempted to increase this suspicion of his should the opportunity arise.
“These stamps are somewhat out of date.” he said, frowning. He was wondering whether he was supposed to have noticed that, was this some kind of test, or did they just want to get through? “You're out of Jordan?”
Dana nodded at this.
“Hmm.” Glidewell seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion. “Well when you drive back up there, let them know they're out of date, okay?” Without even waiting for our answer, he waved to the other two Troopers, who got in their cars and, with a feeling of relief, backed them out of the rode.
“Move along.” Glidewell said, stepping back from the window and waving us on. Dana started driving, careful not to let any of the stress show, and within moments we were past the station and on the highway headed west.
“Well,” Jamie commented finally, “That was surprisingly easy.”
“Some day, I'm getting out of this place. Even if it kills me.”
It was early afternoon when we left Haven. The town seemed to vanish behind us as we came in range of the nobody-here field, and then we were on our own. The van, the van where we'd spent so much time suffering – Dana especially – was now comfortable and well supplied. I couldn't help but feel that this trip would be the reverse of the last. Then we'd left a prison and ended up safe, now we'd left our haven and would likely end up imprisoned... if we were lucky.
Jamie was nervous. For all her previous bravado, and for the brave exterior she was trying to show now, inside she was reprimanding herself for going along with such an insane idea. She wasn't accustomed to this sort of life. Before she'd met Dana, before we'd dragged her down to our level, she'd been just another person, getting on with her life. But at some point her parents had arranged a tour of the Afflicted zone, and it had changed her. We hadn't taken her on many ops before the one that ended in the siege. The most dangerous previous to that was a smuggling operation, but that particular one had been safe, comparatively. The siege had left her wary of further operations. She ignored it, though, determined to press on. I felt simultaneously proud of her and guilty for getting her into this mess. If I hadn't accidentally declared my intentions that memorable day, she might very well be safe back in Haven.
Dana, on the other hand, was happy. This confused me until I realized that it wasn't a joyous happy, it wasn't the happiness a person felt upon doing a good deed. It was a bitter feeling, a feeling of finally beginning to do what should have been done a long time ago. She felt guilt over having let my father go, that much I knew, as though it had been her responsibility. There was something else, too. There'd always been an undercurrent whenever she was thinking of my dad, and I'd never dared touch it. They were private, those thoughts. I felt bad enough reading as deeply as I had.
I concentrated on the scenery, which was a great deal more interesting in daylight. Dana was driving and was taking the journey slow, as the condition of the road hadn't improved at all in the past few days. I found myself wondering if anyone in Haven was in charge of making sure that people could actually get to their town.
Finally, we were at the bottom of the road. The treatment plants churned further ahead, but luckily those weren't our destinations. We turned right and started driving.
The first obstacle, Orin had informed us when we came to him for our van, would be getting on the highway. Paradise Highway, the road we'd turned onto, was anything but. The real thing was still down the road, and there was a full-fledged Trooper station at the entrance ramp. Between the time we'd arrived in Haven and the time we'd left, Orin had someone re-paint the van and fake up a new license plate and official travel papers. We were bound to Meadows, they said, there to pick up a few additional supplies we hadn't been able to get in Jordan Valley, and then to move further south to Kingman. The entire story was a fabrication, though the cities were more or less in the direction we were traveling, so if we were stopped at any other point the story should still hold up. I wasn't eager to verify that it would, however.
The van was quiet. I'd been listening in on everyone's thoughts because it was natural for me to do so when there was no conversation. Jamie was still gathering her strength in the back of the van, though she'd mostly succeeded by this point. Dana was thinking of the directions she'd been given, over and over, as though to memorize them. She did this despite the fact that she'd have to have memorized them to be repeating them to herself now.
Going was slow. At one point we all panicked because Dana spotted a Trooper car, driving up behind us pretty quickly. Jamie had to re-start her courage gathering at this point, and I found myself joining her in spirit. In fact, it occurred to me that I'd only been listening to other's feelings because I was trying to distract myself from the situation we were in.
The car never slowed down once, instead turning into the lane next to us and speeding by. The driver never even looked over at us. Another few minutes and he was gone. I felt everyone, including myself, relax.
It wasn't long after that we found where the car had gone. A faded sign announced that we were approaching a scenic town of some kind, though the sign was in too far a state of disrepair to read exactly what city we were entering. Whatever it was, the plague had clearly cleaned it out. There was no quarantine zone, for one – all major cities tended to have one. No reconstruction. Just old buildings falling farther into disrepair.
Roads had been blocked off. Wooden sawhorses with lights that no longer seemed to function stood on the side roads. Each sawhorse had a sign labeled “ABANDONED TO PLAGUE – ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK'. The city itself seemed large enough to house a stable population, which led me to wonder why it had been abandoned. More likely a battle was fought here during the war, and the left over ordinance and chemicals were providing the danger. The plague was a nice scapegoat for nearly everything these days.
Roadblocks slowly moved by as Dana let up on the gas. This road was the main road, yes, but it obviously was only barely maintained. Not to mention Troopers liked to set up surprise patrols in dead cities like this. It made catching people easy, and there was rarely anyone else around to see what happened once they did.
Turning a corner revealed the station, just as Orin had predicted. Where the rest of the city was windblown and ruined, the station was new. Not just restored the way Haven had been, but brand-new, built from the ground up sometime in the last five years. It stood behind a sign that indicated that the major highway entrance was a half mile.
The road widened at this point, and two Trooper cars were in the middle of it, their sides to us. Three troopers, two behind the cars and one between them and us, stood looking toward us warily. Even at this distance, I could feel their tension. There was no scheduled transport today. They'd been tipped off by their buddy who was now in the station, manning the radio in case something should go wrong out here.
By this point Dana had stopped the van and rolled down the windows. With a look to his other two Troopers, the one closest started walking toward us.
“I'm Trooper Mark Glidewell.” he said louder than he needed to, still closing the distance. “Stay in your vehicle while I inspect it. Have your traveling papers ready.”
Dana leaned out her window and produced the papers while Glidewell looked them over. I could feel his mind better now, and had to stifle a laugh when I realized he was more nervous than we were. Not because he was afraid we were insurgents bent on killing him, but because he and his friends thought that this was an undercover inspection! He was wearing his helmet, but I was sorely tempted to increase this suspicion of his should the opportunity arise.
“These stamps are somewhat out of date.” he said, frowning. He was wondering whether he was supposed to have noticed that, was this some kind of test, or did they just want to get through? “You're out of Jordan?”
Dana nodded at this.
“Hmm.” Glidewell seemed to have come to some kind of conclusion. “Well when you drive back up there, let them know they're out of date, okay?” Without even waiting for our answer, he waved to the other two Troopers, who got in their cars and, with a feeling of relief, backed them out of the rode.
“Move along.” Glidewell said, stepping back from the window and waving us on. Dana started driving, careful not to let any of the stress show, and within moments we were past the station and on the highway headed west.
“Well,” Jamie commented finally, “That was surprisingly easy.”
posted by Roger Ostrander at 8:02 PM
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