Lamp Black: Second Edition, Disaster, Preparedness, Survival, Awakening (The Gatekeeper Book 2) (59 page)

Bonnie handed Pete crackers with tuna as he made his way back onto the interstate. He took the on-ramp with trepidation, but remained cautiously optimistic, wanting strongly to believe that the worst of their journey was behind them. They were getting closer to Fort Worth, which meant John’s house wasn’t much farther away, but after having experienced so many delays, Pete wasn’t holding his breath that he would reach John’s without having more. Pete found it hard to believe that so much happened to them in such a short amount of time.

Pete remained alert, and ready to exit the interstate at the first sign of trouble, but he was happy to be making such good progress once again. They were fast approaching the I-20 interchange, about twelve miles from the southern edge of the greater Fort Worth metro area. As far as Pete was concerned, I-20 marked the beginning of the city.
It wasn’t tall buildings and one-way streets, but it was heavily built up. Both sides of I-35W was crowded with stores, restaurants, gas stations, and other familiar service related amenities. Like serfs to their king, it marked the outer band of sprawling urban towns that supported the big city.

From I-20, it was another five miles to I-30, which ran through the heart of Fort Worth. Beyond that, another eight miles north, was the 820 interchange. But Pete wasn’t as worried about the interchanges, and their many towering fly-ways, as he was about crossing the Trinity River. He considered it the one real obstacle that sat between him and John. If the flyways were intact, then there was a very good chance the freeway over the Trinity River was also intact.

Waco was the largest city they had to negotiate thus far, but it was puny in comparison to Fort Worth. Pete actually considered bypassing Fort Worth all together, but he decided that negotiating the urban sprawl would be much more dangerous than an end-run up the middle. The last thing Pete wanted to do was drive through a neighborhood of hungry, thirsty people. He decided that staying on the interstate offered them the best hope of success, and perhaps even more options to bypass potential obstacles.

They saw buildings, but no evidence of electrical power. Everything was dark except for fires and headlights. Pete noticed that several stores had cars parked in front, their headlights illuminating the interiors. Bonnie, in a running commentary, reported everything she saw while Pete drove in silence. She reported seeing groups of people walk out of stores, arms loaded with goods and supplies. She was amazed to see people carrying electronics and appliances.

“I don’t get it,” said Bonnie.

“Get what?” asked Pete.

“Why do people steal electronics when the power’s out? I mean, I can understand food, and even alcohol and cigarettes, to the extent of satisfying addictions and all that . . . but electronics? I don’t get it.”

“Maybe they think the power will come back on,” said Pete.

“And maybe they’re just stupid,” said Bonnie.

“You’re right though,” said Pete, “there’s a fine line between scavenging and looting. Taking food to feed your family is different than taking a television or stereo.”

“Walking out of a grocery store without paying for food is looting too,” said Bonnie.

“That’s the fine line I mean, Bonnie. It’s important to consider the desperation of the family. Let’s say a father of three young children is about to run out of food. The kids are crying, they’re hungry. The father goes to the nearest grocery store, and if he’s lucky he finds food. The power’s out, so the registers aren’t running, and no one from the store is there. And there are no police out front . . . no security. The glass doors and windows are shattered. Is that man, the father, supposed to just turn around and walk away . . . not feed his kids? What else is he to do? Where else is he to go?”

“It’s still stealing,” said Bonnie.

“Because he can’t pay for it?” asked Pete.

“Exactly.”

“Well, I agree with you to a point. It’s stealing when you can pay for it. But is it stealing, or looting, if you need food and can’t pay for it? You really think people should starve to death in their homes when there’s a chance they’ll find food somewhere? A friend of mine, who was the former city manager of a small town near Austin, told me that when he was in Beaumont after Hurricane Katrina, people were breaking into closed restaurants and vending machines to feed themselves and their families. Desperate people do desperate things to live, Bonnie.”

“It’s sad, really, that more people weren’t prepared for this disaster. I mean, if everybody had what we had, just a month’s supply of food, it could have made a big difference,” said Bonnie.

“But that’s just it, Bonnie, we weren’t prepared either. And we wouldn’t have been even a little prepared if it weren’t for John. We were last minute preppers, and we were lucky we listened to John. Imagine
how crazy it would be if everyone ran to a Costco at the same time. The stores would be empty in hours.”

“I bet they’re empty now,” she said.

“You’re right about that. As for preparedness, well, it takes time. It can’t happen all at once. The stores wouldn’t be able to keep up with the demand. But you’re right, if everyone prepared just a little then there would probably be a lot less chaos happening right now.”

Bonnie looked out the side window and said, “Look, over there, those car lights are pointed out, away from the store. I wonder what’s going on.”

“The owner is probably there . . . trying to protect his store,” said Pete.

“Really? How can you tell?”

“If the lights are pointed in, it’s probably because people want to see what’s in the store, which means they want to take what’s in the store. If the lights are pointed out, it’s to illuminate the people approaching the store as a threat. That owner already knows what’s in his store, and he doesn’t need to illuminate it. He’s not open for business, and probably has armed men defending his property,” said Pete.

“Pete, look out! There are kids up there dropping stuff on the cars as they drive under the overpass,” warned Bonnie.

“I see them,” said Pete. He quickly rolled down his window and drew his pistol. He switched the pistol to his left hand, and when he approached the overpass he fired off five quick shots in the direction of the overpass. The kids dove for cover behind a concrete barrier, and Pete passed beneath them unmolested.

“I can’t believe you just shot at those kids,” said Bonnie, but she said it more in amazement than judgment, which was a big improvement.

Pete realized Bonnie was beginning to come around. “They were teenagers, not kids, and I was only suppressing them. But I wouldn’t have lost any sleep if I managed to hit one of them,” replied Pete.

“How can you say that?” asked Bonnie, with new judgment. “That you can shoot kids . . . without remorse?”

Pete handed the pistol to Bonnie and asked her to reload it while he rolled up his window. She made short work of the effort and handed the pistol back to Pete. He sighed and said, “Bonnie, I can and will shoot anyone, regardless of their age, if they’re trying to kill us,” said Pete with patience. He reminded himself that she didn’t see the worst of the highwaymen’s atrocities. But he was surprised at how quickly people could forget their previous dangers when their life was no longer in danger, or at least apparent danger.

“They weren’t trying to kill us,” said Bonnie.

“Their intent is irrelevant if the outcome is the same. If one of those big rocks hit our windshield it would kill us both.”

Bonnie was silent, apparently contemplating everything Pete said. “You know what?”

“What?”

“I don’t like this new world. This is what it must have felt like for Adam and Eve when they left the Garden of Eden,” said Bonnie. “The change must have been really strange and scary for them.”

“Well, I wouldn’t call what we had the Garden of Eden, but I get what you’re saying. We thought the world was messed up before the disaster, now it’s really messed up.”

They drove in silence and soon passed under I-20. “We’re getting close to the city now,” said Pete. “The traffic is moving, but there’s a lot less of it. Even the southbound lanes look less busy.”

“There’s a large group of people running through that shopping center parking lot. See it . . . over there,” said Bonnie, excitedly, as she pointed to her right.

“Running, as in chasing, or being chased?” asked Pete.

“I don’t know. I didn’t see. It was just a large group of running people. What do you think it means?” asked Bonnie.

“It could mean anything from gang on gang activity, to flat out panic,” said Pete. “We need to be very alert through here. Keep your eyes open, and let me know if you see anything else unusual. If we can, we need to make it through the city as quickly as possible. Once we
clear the city, then we can leave the interstate and look for safer roads. But right now, I think the interstate is our safest bet.”

Pete was correct in his assumption, the fastest way through the city was via I-35W, at least until they passed under I-30. But when they reached mile-marker fifty-four, about three miles south of highway 820, the traffic grew thick, then slowed, and finally came to a stop. They were still uncomfortably short of their exit from the city, and studied the maps for an option.

“Can you find a bypass in your book?”

“That map book became useless when we entered Tarrant County, which was just south of I-20,” said Bonnie. “But give me a second and I’ll see if I can find us an alternate route. At least we’re over the Trinity River. There! Take the next exit. Meacham Boulevard,” added Bonnie, excitedly.

“Got it!” said Pete, and he aimed the big truck for the off ramp. “What’s next?”

“Let’s see, turn left on Meacham and go under the freeway, and then turn right on Mark IV Parkway. It’s about a half mile on the right once you make the turn,” said Bonnie.

Pete followed her directions and turned right at the parkway. They were both surprised to see the sprawling and well lit United States Post Office mail distribution center. It occupied more than an entire city block. “Wow, that place is huge. It’s the biggest post office I’ve ever seen,” said Pete.

“Is it a post office?” asked Bonnie.

“Looks more like a distribution center to me,” said Pete. “It also looks completely dead despite the lighting. I don’t think the mail is running today.”

“What’s the saying? Neither snow nor rain nor gloom of night . . .” said Bonnie. “Wouldn’t gloom of night include this?”

“I would think so,” said Pete. “Crap!”

“What is it?” asked Bonnie.

“We’re heading into a residential area,” said Pete.

“Then turn left here, and take a right at Blue Mound. It’s about ten miles, but it should keep us out of most of the residential areas,” said Bonnie. She closely tracked Pete’s movements along Blue Mound and said, “In about a half mile we’ll come to Harmon Road. That will take us east, and back to I-35W.”

“I wonder what that building is up ahead,” said Pete. He was so transfixed with the well-lit building that sat in the middle of several acres of open land, that he didn’t notice the dark and silently manned roadblock lying across Harmon Road. Pete slammed on the brakes and the truck skidded to a stop just inches from a large log. Two sets of vehicle lights immediately illuminated Pete’s truck from the parking lot on his left. Pete shielded his eyes from the high beams, and waited for whoever was manning the roadblock to make the next move.

He didn’t have to wait long. Several armed people approached the truck from both sides. Pete lowered his window and listened for whatever command was sure to be issued. He was entirely at their mercy, and sincerely hoped he fell into the hands of vigilant citizens rather than more highwaymen. “Can I help you?” hollered Pete, “I meant no trespass.”

“Are you armed?” asked the shadow of a man that stood facing Pete between the glare of the several headlights. His voice was deep and businesslike, as if he was comfortable speaking before a large group of people.

“Of course I am,” answered Pete, in the most comfortable and confident voice he could muster under the circumstances. “You’d have to be a fool not to now.”

Pete thought he heard the man chuckle before he asked, “What’s your business here?”

“No business, really,” said Pete. “We’re just trying to pass through . . . to make our way back to I-35 after avoiding the mess near 820.”

“Where you coming from, and where you going?”

“Left Belton the other day, and we’re heading to a friend’s place up near Denton,” replied Pete.

The shadow man walked back toward the headlights. Pete heard talking and a set of lights went dark. The other switched down to its low beams. Pete still had to shield his eyes to see what was happening, but at least they were no longer under a spotlight. He turned to get a look at the man standing on Bonnie’s side of the truck, and saw that he was armed with a tactical shotgun.

Pete whispered to Bonnie, “We’re in no danger if we don’t do anything stupid, so relax and act casual. These guys don’t seem to be a threat to us, at least not at the moment,” said Pete.

Bonnie whispered back, “OK” and smiled at the man standing outside her window, even though she thought the man wouldn’t see or appreciate her effort.

Pete watched the shadow man walk toward them and stop ten feet from his truck. “I would like to approach your truck, so please keep your hands out to where I can see them?”

“Sure,” said Pete, “but can I get your name first. Mine’s Pete.”

“Well Pete, my name’s Charlie, and I have to warn you, I’m being covered by three armed men who will open fire if you do anything foolish.”

“Well Charlie, it’s nice to meet you, and I can assure you I’m not the foolish type.”

Pete heard Charlie chuckle again, but he kept his hands on the steering wheel just the same. The man approached the truck, and Pete was surprised to see that he looked younger than he sounded. Charlie shined his flashlight around the interior of the truck and looked at Bonnie, “Sorry ma’am, hope we didn’t frighten you.”

“Hi Charlie. My name’s Bonnie. And please don’t call me ma’am, it makes me feel old.”

Charlie smiled and said, “It’s nice to meet you, Bonnie. Say, are you folks hungry? We’ve got a food kitchen set up at the elementary school. It sure would be nice to hear some outside news, being that you traveled all the way up here from Belton and all.”