Day 19
We drove. Time seemed to slip by slowly but inevitably. Orin's directions hadn't been exact, because apparently neither had my father's. The transport that had taken him had used a different route than ours. What we had was as good as we were liable to get.
I spent the time looking through my PDA. Jamie spent it going over our supplies in the back. Given that Orin had believed we'd arrive there by nightfall, the sheer amount of food and water he'd had us take seemed completely unnecessary. John would have said that it paid to be prepared in a situation like this, you never knew what would happen. Orin had assured us that a mechanic had been over every inch of the van, and it'd been well maintained. John would have scoffed, demanded to do it himself.
John. None of us had said anything about him; in fact, none of us had said much of anything at all, and I think not wanting to discuss what had happened between him and Dana was a large part of it. Jamie was trying to keep busy in order to not think of the danger to come, but Dana was making a concerted effort not to think of him. He kept seeming to sneak into her thoughts when she was least expecting him. She'd be thinking of ways to defend the van, and she'd count him among our allies out of habit, as though he was still here. I didn't pretend to know why she'd been so adamant that she go or he so adamant that he stay. I didn't want to pry that deeply into their minds. I only knew that she was here and he wasn't, and if Dana was fine with that then so was I.
I turned back toward Jamie and smiled at her, and was rewarded with a smile in turn. All the time, though, I was thinking of John and Dana. That's what would have happened had I actually tried to keep Jamie from coming. A huge blowout, hurt feelings, and as John himself would have put it “low morale”. I was glad she was here. As bad as things might get, I was glad she was here.
She went back to organizing the supplies, and I gazed at her a little longer before returning my mind to the scenery. I hoped I was exaggerating the danger. As much as it would pain me to have this mission be entirely fruitless, to find the place burnt to the ground and no trace of it or anything that had gone on there, part of me wanted exactly that. If that was the case, we just turned around and led our lives as normal back in Haven. Safety, security, our future awaited us there. We just had to close this one last door to our past, Dana and I.
I wondered if Jamie regretted it. She'd been close to her family, until their falling-out over her “radical tendencies”. I'd gotten the distinct impression that her parents had thought her newfound sympathy for the Afflicted to be some kind of adolescent rebellion come a decade after it ought to. It hadn't occurred to them that they'd raised her to care for others, and she was doing exactly that.
The sun slowly moved west, until it began vanishing behind the mountains. We hadn't seen anything on the road save a few transports who'd promptly passed us and moved on, and for a few moments it was hard to even comprehend what Dana was saying. It was as though the desert was going on forever, it would never stop, and we would forever be driving in it.
“That's our exit.” She had said, pointing to a weatherbeaten sign labeled “Rye Patch”.
The van slowed as we took the exit. There were no trooper stations in this place. The ground started sloping down as Dana took deliberate turns down the road.
“Okay, keep your eyes peeled for the lower reservoir.” she said, repeating what Orin had told us. All the maps had it as a watershed, just another area in a harmless state park.
We didn't have to keep our eyes peeled for it, the road became a bridge and below us was the reservoir. I'd expected cascading waters, perhaps a hydroelectric plant. What I hadn't expected was... nothing.
“I wouldn't exactly call that a reservoir.” Jamie commented. “More along the lines of 'same damn desert we've seen all day'”
Dana kept driving over the bridge and then took the first turn toward where a sign continued to indicate that water should be. Orin had relayed the PDA's instructions, and I'd since verified them. When my father had made this trip, there had been very little water there, but there was some, and the whole place was crawling with guards. Now, there was just us. The town the exit had taken us by had been deserted. This place didn't even have abandoned vehicles.
Dad had gone through a gate, and after a moment I spotted it. Had the fading sun not been at the exact angle it was to glint off the fallen steel, I probably would have missed it and we'd have gone on driving until the night claimed us. Instead, I pointed.
“That's the place all right.” Dana said, more bitterly than she'd probably intended. Her mind was blank to me, and I suspected it was because she didn't want me to know how she was feeling. I could tell, though, she was caught between anger and sadness. This was the place that had taken my father; I could certainly understand.
Dana turned the van and we started downhill again. She was driving slowly both because of the unmaintained road and to sight any sort of Trooper movement before they spotted us. There was nothing, though.
The road turned once more as we corkscrewed slowly down the outside of a mesa. As the rock moved out of view, we saw it.
“There it is.” I barely whispered the words.
I spent the time looking through my PDA. Jamie spent it going over our supplies in the back. Given that Orin had believed we'd arrive there by nightfall, the sheer amount of food and water he'd had us take seemed completely unnecessary. John would have said that it paid to be prepared in a situation like this, you never knew what would happen. Orin had assured us that a mechanic had been over every inch of the van, and it'd been well maintained. John would have scoffed, demanded to do it himself.
John. None of us had said anything about him; in fact, none of us had said much of anything at all, and I think not wanting to discuss what had happened between him and Dana was a large part of it. Jamie was trying to keep busy in order to not think of the danger to come, but Dana was making a concerted effort not to think of him. He kept seeming to sneak into her thoughts when she was least expecting him. She'd be thinking of ways to defend the van, and she'd count him among our allies out of habit, as though he was still here. I didn't pretend to know why she'd been so adamant that she go or he so adamant that he stay. I didn't want to pry that deeply into their minds. I only knew that she was here and he wasn't, and if Dana was fine with that then so was I.
I turned back toward Jamie and smiled at her, and was rewarded with a smile in turn. All the time, though, I was thinking of John and Dana. That's what would have happened had I actually tried to keep Jamie from coming. A huge blowout, hurt feelings, and as John himself would have put it “low morale”. I was glad she was here. As bad as things might get, I was glad she was here.
She went back to organizing the supplies, and I gazed at her a little longer before returning my mind to the scenery. I hoped I was exaggerating the danger. As much as it would pain me to have this mission be entirely fruitless, to find the place burnt to the ground and no trace of it or anything that had gone on there, part of me wanted exactly that. If that was the case, we just turned around and led our lives as normal back in Haven. Safety, security, our future awaited us there. We just had to close this one last door to our past, Dana and I.
I wondered if Jamie regretted it. She'd been close to her family, until their falling-out over her “radical tendencies”. I'd gotten the distinct impression that her parents had thought her newfound sympathy for the Afflicted to be some kind of adolescent rebellion come a decade after it ought to. It hadn't occurred to them that they'd raised her to care for others, and she was doing exactly that.
The sun slowly moved west, until it began vanishing behind the mountains. We hadn't seen anything on the road save a few transports who'd promptly passed us and moved on, and for a few moments it was hard to even comprehend what Dana was saying. It was as though the desert was going on forever, it would never stop, and we would forever be driving in it.
“That's our exit.” She had said, pointing to a weatherbeaten sign labeled “Rye Patch”.
The van slowed as we took the exit. There were no trooper stations in this place. The ground started sloping down as Dana took deliberate turns down the road.
“Okay, keep your eyes peeled for the lower reservoir.” she said, repeating what Orin had told us. All the maps had it as a watershed, just another area in a harmless state park.
We didn't have to keep our eyes peeled for it, the road became a bridge and below us was the reservoir. I'd expected cascading waters, perhaps a hydroelectric plant. What I hadn't expected was... nothing.
“I wouldn't exactly call that a reservoir.” Jamie commented. “More along the lines of 'same damn desert we've seen all day'”
Dana kept driving over the bridge and then took the first turn toward where a sign continued to indicate that water should be. Orin had relayed the PDA's instructions, and I'd since verified them. When my father had made this trip, there had been very little water there, but there was some, and the whole place was crawling with guards. Now, there was just us. The town the exit had taken us by had been deserted. This place didn't even have abandoned vehicles.
Dad had gone through a gate, and after a moment I spotted it. Had the fading sun not been at the exact angle it was to glint off the fallen steel, I probably would have missed it and we'd have gone on driving until the night claimed us. Instead, I pointed.
“That's the place all right.” Dana said, more bitterly than she'd probably intended. Her mind was blank to me, and I suspected it was because she didn't want me to know how she was feeling. I could tell, though, she was caught between anger and sadness. This was the place that had taken my father; I could certainly understand.
Dana turned the van and we started downhill again. She was driving slowly both because of the unmaintained road and to sight any sort of Trooper movement before they spotted us. There was nothing, though.
The road turned once more as we corkscrewed slowly down the outside of a mesa. As the rock moved out of view, we saw it.
“There it is.” I barely whispered the words.
posted by Roger Ostrander at 7:47 PM
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