Taking a Chance

The highway I was traveling on looked as someone had decided it was a worthwhile target for missiles. It didn't just have pot-holes; it had overlapping craters the size of large houses. The overpass ahead of us had mostly collapsed. All sorts of vehicles were scattered about. Some dangling over the edges of the overpass, others blown off the highway and into the ditches alongside it. Some animals were already searching through the wreckage, looking for food.

I stopped the car near an elk and asked, “Is there a detour anywhere?”

“My maps are out of date, Xavier,” the car replied. “And no way to download any new ones.”

“No surprise there,” I said. “Wars tend to make things worse, not better.”

“But we passed an exit ramp about a kilometer back,” the car went on. “It will take us away from this highway. There seems to be access to a side road that runs parallel to this highway. If it's still intact.”

“Let's go look and see if it is,” I said and spun the steering wheel around. The car headed back toward the exit ramp.

The top of the exit ramp was partly clogged by toppled and burnt trees and a tractor-trailer lying on its side. There was room around them, though, and we could see the side road. Once we were on it, at first everything seemed normal. But then a farm slid by, looking as if someone had dropped a decent amount of napalm on it, burning it to the ground. I could see the burned-out shell of a farmhouse surrounded by the barren ground. There was a coil of smoke rising from the farmhouse.

“More recent damage,” I said. “Any survivors?”

“None that I can detect,” the car said. “This wasn't a primary target area. It's possible that the damage here was just collateral. The result of near-misses.”

“How comforting,” I said.

“Do I detect a note of sarcasm, Xavier?” the car inquired.

“When my species has done its best to wipe itself out in less than one day, what else do I have to defend myself with?” I asked.

“It's possible that we'll encounter survivors again,” the car reminded me.

“Hopefully more friendly than the last batch were,” I said. “I wasn't planning to end up on someone's dinner plate.”

“I did warn you that they might be hungry,” the car said.

I made a face. “All right. You told me so. And in case you forgot, I did thank you for rescuing me.”

“True,” the car said. “Your manners are improving. A month ago –”

“A month ago we were in a different world,” I interrupted. “Even yesterday we were in a different world.”

This time the car interrupted. “Warning, warning, warning. Incoming tremors detected. Initial assessment 6 on the Richter scale. Possibly higher.”

“Anywhere we can take shelter until it subsides?” I asked.

“Remains of a shopping mall several kilometers ahead,” the car said.

“Then what are we waiting for?” I asked and floored the gas pedal.

The car roared down the side road.

* * * * * * * * * *

I parked the car near, but not inside, what used to be a parking garage behind the shopping mall.

Just barely in time.

Moments later, the tremors sent waves through the pavement below us. Like a herd of bucking broncos. The car shook violently as it rose and fell with the waves. Masonry fell in large chunks from the upper floors of the parking garage. Jagged tears were visible just inside its entrance. Many of the windows of stores that hadn't been damaged already now shattered, sending thousands of glass shards in all directions. Several of the larger pieces bounced off the sides and roof of the car with loud bangs. The waves subsided.

“What was the actual assessment?” I asked.

“Over 7 on the Richter scale,” the car said. “Unless you prefer an exact rating?”

“Over 7 is just fine,” I said. “Maybe this is a good time to a do a little scavenging. I don't think the store owners are going to mind. They're probably long gone by now.”

“One life form detected inside the nearest store,” the car said. “Correction: two life forms. One human, one non-human.”

I reached into the backseat, grabbed my rifle, and loaded it. I was tempted to grab the shotgun instead, but it wasn't loaded. Besides, I might need something that could hit targets further than a shotgun could hit.

“Be careful, Xavier,” the car said.

“Do my best,” I said, and got out of the car. “Where did you say they were?”

“Nearest store,” the car said. “They aren't moving, but they are alive.”

I carefully made my way to the store. The exit door was missing. Probably blown off its hinges and lying somewhere out in the parking area.

I went inside the store, pointing the gun at anything that seemed to be moving. Relax, I told myself. The only thing you've got to be afraid of is the ceiling falling in on you.

Another dozen meters or so, and I heard a cough and something that sounded like a growl. Could've been a dog, or maybe a large cat. Unless there were wolves here. Wolves are okay. They usually leave you alone if you leave them alone.

Heading in the direction of the cough and growl, I saw several large shelf units toppled over and another one lying across the front of them. Like a gateway blocking the opening of a makeshift shelter.

Another growl and a soft voice said, “Shh, Tavani! He'll hear us!”

I tapped on the blocking shelf unit. “Too late. If you're armed, drop whatever it is. I'm not about to argue first and shoot later.”

Something was laid on the floor. I couldn't see from here what it was.

“What about your friend?” I asked.

“Jaguars don't usually carry weapons,” the soft voice said. “They use their teeth and claws.”

“I'm going to pull the shelf unit between us out of the way,” I said. “Don't make a move. That includes your friend. Understood?”

“Yes,” the soft voice said.

I pulled the shelf unit out of the way, knelt under the toppled shelf units beyond it. In the shadows under them, I thought I could see a person and something about the size of a large dog. That must be the jaguar. It was lying on the floor, its pale eyes focused on me.

“All right,” I said. “Come on out. I won't hurt either of you. I promise.”

I stood up and backed away, but kept my gun aimed at them.

The voice belonged to a young woman, maybe a few years younger than myself. She had long scraggly dark red hair, dark eyes, and was dressed in an old, worn raincoat and equally old, worn jeans and sneakers.

She turned and said, “Come on out, Tavani. It's safe. He won't hurt us … I hope.”

There was a growl, but then her friend walked out of their makeshift shelter. I'd never seen a jaguar except at a zoo. It was bigger than I'd expected. Its shoulders were even with her hips. It didn't look too convinced about me. It kept close to her side. She knelt and petted its head. In return, it licked her face with its rough tongue.

“How long have you both been here?” I asked her.

“Since before the first quakes hit,” she said. “This morning.”

“They weren't quakes,” I said. “Not at first. Those were missile impacts.”

“But that doesn't make any sense,” she said. “Who would shoot at us?”

“Anyone who didn't like us,” I said. “And probably still don't. Plenty of people. Not just here in America, but in other countries.”

She looked past me. “Are you alone?”

“Sort of,” I said. “I came with a friend. He's outside, in the parking area.”

“Do you have any food?” she asked. “We haven't eaten since last night.”

I shook my head. “Let's see find a shopping basket and see what we can scavenge.” As we did so, I asked, “You got a name?” her.

“Luka,” she said. “What's yours?”

“Xavier,” I said.

* * * * * * * * * *

Back in the car, I unloaded the rifle and put the ammo under my car seat. Next to the shotgun shells.

Tavani curled up in the backseat, with its head in Luka's lap.

The food we'd found was in a shopping basket in the front seat. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

“You said you came with a friend,” Luka reminded me.

“That would be me,” the car said.

She looked around herself, then at me. “Your car can talk?”

“Of course I can,” the car said.

“But how?” she asked.

“That would probably take too long to explain,” the car said. “If you're both finished with feeding yourself, I would suggest we leave this area as soon as possible.”

I nodded and drove away from the shopping mall. I stopped at a T-intersection nearby. Left turn went back toward town. Right turn went away from town, between stretches of dark, branch-less trees. The sky was getting darker, closer to sunset. I turned on the headlights.

“Which way now?” I asked.

“There is another exit back onto the highway about five kilometers ahead,” the car said.

“But?” I asked.

“It might be more prudent to stay on this side road,” the car said.

“Prudent … or safer?” I asked.

“Both,” the car said.

“Right turn, then,” I said, turned and headed away from the town.

“You're scavengers?” Luka asked.

I nodded. “And so are you.”

In the rear-view mirror, I could see her hesitant expression.

“Don't be so sure,” she said. “We could've just been shopping when the missiles hit.”

“But you stayed,” I pointed out.

“It was safer to,” she countered and made a face. “Now I wish I'd kept my gun.”

“Was it loaded?” I asked.

“I don't know,” she said. “I found it in the store. Lying on a shelf.”

“In case you need it, I also have a shotgun on the backseat,” I said.

“I see it,” she said. “Is it loaded?”

“No,” I said.

“Is your rifle?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

“Warning, warning, warning,” the car interrupted. “Armed aerial vehicles heading our way.”

I looked out of the driver's side window. Saw nothing yet. “Helicopter gunships?”

“Yes,” the car said.

“Have they spotted us yet?” I asked.

“Probably,” the car said.

I swore. “Evasive action. Take control; you're faster.”

“Taking control,” the car said, increasing its speed. 100 … 120 … 140 … 160. The engine was louder now. “Grab onto something!”

I did so, grabbing onto the door handle. Hopefully Luka and Tavani could find something to hold onto.

At the next intersection the car skidded as it turned left. A cloud of gravel and dust briefly obscuring us from ground-side view. But from above us? Probably not.

Something like lightning ripped into the trees to our right and exploded. Trees shattered, sending fragments every which way. Trees toppled across the road, thankfully only behind us. But still too close.

160 … 180 … 200. The engine was even louder now.

Rockets fired toward us, but the car weaved. The rockets missed. More explosions. This time chunks of trees crashed into the car. No serious damage … yet.

The jaguar didn't sound happy to be cooped up while we were under attack.

“Keep calm, Tavani,” Luka said loudly, not sounding that calm herself. “Getting angry isn't going to help any of us.”

Something hit the left-side rear-view mirror, tearing it off. Flames briefly licked across that side of the car. I could feel the heat and covered my eyes. When it seemed safe to, I opened them again.

Another change of direction at the next intersection, this time to the right. Would it fool our pursuers? Probably not. But maybe we could out-run them.

200 … 220 … 240. I had never heard the engine this loud before.

“I sure hope you know what you're doing!” I shouted to the car.

“Doing my best!” the car shouted, increasing its speed still further. 240 … 260 … 280.

“They're falling behind, Xavier,” the car reported soon after. “Pursuit … has ended. They seem to have given up.”

The engine quieted considerably as the car slowed back down. But only to about 100. They might've seemed like they'd given up, but the gunships could have just decided to wait and come after us later.

“Find us shelter,” I said. “I don't care where or what it looks like.”

“Understood,” the car said. “Fuel first, though. We're running low.”

I nodded and called over my shoulder, “Are you both okay?”

“We're fine,” Luka said. She sounded a bit breathless. “Does this usually happen to you?”

“Depends on where we are,” I said. “This car would be a valuable addition to anyone's armory.”

“Was it originally yours?” she asked.

“No,” I said.

We found an abandoned gas station soon after. The fuel pumps were a little slow, but still functioning.

* * * * * * * * * *

An hour later, the car pulled into a driveway. Gravel crunched under the car's tires. There was a house and garage ahead. No lights were on.

The car stopped near the garage, shut off the headlights, and reported, “No signs of life inside the house.”

I grabbed my rifle, loaded it, and stepped out of the car.

“Stay here,” I said to Luka and Tavani. “I'm going to scout around. Be back as soon as I can.” Then spoke to the car. “Protect them.”

“I will,” the car said. “No heroics, Xavier.”

“Wasn't planning on it,” I said.

I entered the garage. Plenty of clutter. Tried the door between it and the house. The screen-door was a little rusty, but still opened. The inner door wouldn't open. Dead-bolt was probably locked.

Behind the garage was a wooden fence with a gate. The gate was closed, but I could open it. The backyard felt covered with lots of small, hard-shelled things. I knelt and checked one. It was a pecan. One of maybe thousands.

A dog barked, sensing a stranger. I turned toward it and saw something like a Great Dane. Teeth bared, it leapt toward me. I fired at it three times. The dog fell on the ground and didn't move.

“I'm really sorry,” I said to its dead body.

Three concrete steps led up to a back door. I tried it and it opened slightly. I gave it some encouragement with my left shoulder and arm. It opened a little more, just enough for me to squeeze past.

Found myself in what looked like a kitchen, with a dining-room nearby. Tried the kitchen lights. Most were out, but one worked. By its light, I checked the kitchen drawers and found a flashlight. I turned it on. Its beam was a bit dim, but still better than nothing.

Dining-room lights were out. I went into a living room. Damaged furniture, smashed-up television and DVD player.

I turned right and walked down a short hallway, maybe five or ten meters long. Counted two bedrooms on the left, a bathroom and a bedroom on the right.

Someone had been here before, scavenging or searching. I cleared the beds off. They looked okay. There were even pillows.

The front door was unlocked. I opened it and went back to the car.

“No one's home,” I said.

“I said that,” the car said.

“What about outside?” I asked. “That –”

“Was no dog,” the car said.

“It looked like one, sounded like one, and attacked like one,” I objected.

“If you don't believe me, go back and look at it,” the car said.

I made a face and went to the back yard. The dog was gone. There was a dead boy in his late teens instead.

I returned to the car. “If someone could please explain?”

“Luka?” the car said.

“That was my brother, Xavier,” she said.

I looked at the jaguar. “What about your friend?”

“And this is my sister,” she said, petting Tavani's head.

“I wish you'd said something before,” I said. “I wouldn't have killed your brother.”

“I wasn't sure that you'd believe me,” she said.

“Right now I'm not sure what I believe,” I said.

No one said anything for a few moments.

“Are we staying here tonight?” Luka asked.

I nodded.

She and the jaguar scrambled out of the backseat.

“Since I don't need any sleep, I'll keep a perimeter watch,” the car said.

“I'll check in with you tomorrow morning,” I said and went back inside the house with Luka and Tavani.

I sighed. What a way to end a day. Pick up two strays and kill a dog that wasn't a dog. And then learn that the jaguar isn't a jaguar, either.

“Thank you, Xavier,” Luka said. “For taking a chance on us.”

“You're welcome,” I said. “I'm sorry about your brother.”

“And I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything sooner,” she said. “Fair's fair?”

“I guess so,” I said. “Why don't we get some sleep and talk more tomorrow morning?”

“Sounds good to me,” she said. “Sleep well.”

“You too, Luka,” I said.