Dux Bellorum (Future History of America Book 3) (37 page)

Ted nodded.
 
"I don't want to, but you're right.
 
We've got to find somebody or at the very least some medication."

Erik pulled the binoculars from his face and stuffed them back in his pack.
 
He peered forward into the gathering dusk.
 
"Whatever we do, we should get going now.
 
Ted, Lindsay's your girl.
 
What do you think?"

Ted looked at the battered road map stretched across the van’s hood.
 
"Newark looks like a decent-sized town.
 
This close to Philadelphia though…who knows what happened after the power went out."
 
He glanced east.
 

"I-95 goes northeast through Delaware.
 
According to the map that smoke on the horizon over there is coming from Wilmington."

"You think we can see that far?" asked Erik.
 
"That's what, a good 15-20 miles away."

"It's about right.
 
That dark smudge is smoke.
 
Something's still burning over there."

"Well I think something's burning closer to us, too."
 
Brin sniffed the air.
 
"You smell that?
 
Smells like…"

"A camp fire," Erik whispered.
 
"I don't see anything," he turned around in a slow circle looking for movement or light.
 
As the sun's light faded to the west, he spotted a pinprick of orange light at the top of the big hill south of the interstate.
 
"There, on top of that hill.
 
See it?"

Ted nodded.
 
"Well,
somebody's
still alive around here."

"I'll take that as a good sign," added Brin.

"Let's get to the next exit and see if we can get closer to the college, maybe find the medical center.
 
Sound good?" Erik asked.

"Let's roll."

Ted drove them to the off-ramp and turned north onto South College Avenue, pulling away from the interstate.
 
As they pulled underneath the overpass, they drove past few cars left like a child's discarded toys, crumpled beside the road.
 
Ted picked his way carefully through the debris scattered across South College and accelerated north.

"Think we ought to slow down a little?" asked Erik.

"I do, but the light's fading and I don't want to turn on the headlights—they'd give away our position."

"What is that?"
 
Erik asked, pointing at a dark outline just off the road to their right.
 
"Is that a football stadium?"

"Looks like it.”
 
Ted whistled.
 
“That thing has seen better days…"

They rolled past the stadium in silence.
 
It was surrounded by a huge number of cars, all of them burned to blackened husks.
 
The south end of the stadium itself had collapsed
 
as if a bomb had gone off.
 

Erik read the shot up and partially burned sign as they drove past the main entrance.
 
"Stubbs Field.”

"Look," Ted said, pointing at a bed sheet, flapping in the breeze at the next entrance to the stadium complex.
 
"Can you read that?"

Erik stared as Ted slowed the van.
 
"I can't make it out—the lettering is blurred together, but it says something about emergency…FEMA.
 
I think it says something about a
 
FEMA camp."

Ted stopped the van, and they sat in silence staring at the ruined sports complex.
 
Every building looked at least partially burned.
 
"I wonder how many people were in there when that place went up?"

"I see a bunch of buildings of ahead,” said Erik.
 
“I can't make out what they are, but I think we're almost there."

After passing a decent-sized train station, they continued on north and discovered immediately that someone had survived the collapse.
 
Ted stopped the van in front of a large three story building on the right side of the road.

"A library?" Brin asked, peering at the sign by the road.

"Why would they set up a roadblock in front of the library?" asked Erik.

"Maybe they got some important books in there?" quipped Ted.
 
"The important thing is
somebody’s
still alive around here.
 
No one would bother setting up a roadblock if they didn't have something they wanted to protect."

"God, you sound like those guys that tried to attack us back in Gainesville…" muttered Brin.

"Welcome to the new world," Ted replied.

They idled the van in front of the building in silence, looking for any signs of life.
 
"Think we can go around it?
 
Up on the sidewalk there," Erik said pointing to the right.

"I don't think so…too many parked cars just close enough to those trees to block us."

Erik turned in his seat and peered out the darkened window to the west.
 
"Well, there's a road right there to the left, looks like it heads west…we could take that and try to loop around?"

"It's worth a shot," agreed Ted.
 
He put the van in reverse and slowly backed up to the intersection.
 
"Here we go, everybody stay frosty.
 
This could be a trap."

"We're all clear back here," reported Brin.
 

Ted turned at the sign for Winslow Road and drove past a two-story building that proclaimed itself to be the Newark University's visitor’s center.
 
He stopped the van again.
 

"Shit.
 
Look up there," he said pointing.

"What is it?" asked Brin from the back.

Erik sighed.
 
"Another roadblock.
 
The next intersection has cars blocking all four ways.
 
Damn, we can't drive through here, either."

"I wish we still had that matvee," said Ted.
 
"We could have rumbled through like Patton."

"It would've been nice, but those guys with the tank back near Fredericksbrg would have spotted us in that thing for sure—we never would have made it this far."

Ted grunted.
 
"You're probably right," he admitted.
 
He shifted back in reverse and backed down the street, turning them onto South College once again.
 

"Looks like our only choice is to head south, go back to that first crossroad and turn east."

The engine chose that moment to sputter and cough.
 
"Or not…" added Erik.

"Come on," said Ted staring at the fuel gauge.
 
"The empty light isn't even on yet!"

"The way that engine sounds, I don’t think low gas is its only problem…"

The engine sputtered and coughed one more time then died.
 
Everyone sat in silence for a moment.
 
The orange ‘low fuel’ light blinked on with a faint
ding
.

“Son of a…" growled Ted.
 
He smacked the steering wheel with his fist.
 
"Not cool!"

Erik looked out the passenger side window.
 
"Well, I guess we're stuck here until we can scavenge some gas.
 
I sure don't like sitting out here in the middle the road."

"
I
don't like sitting out here with this big hole in the back of the car," observed Brin as she peered out the rear window.
 
"Anybody can just walk on up and reach in…"

"No one is going to just walk up on us," said Ted.
 
He opened the door and slipped out.
 
"Erik, go check out the library and see if you can get inside.
 
I'm willing to bet a library isn't high on the list of places squatters want to go after the world goes to shit.
 
I'll check these cars at the roadblock and see if we can get some gas.
 
I want to stay close to the kids."

Erik sighed and opened the passenger door.
 
"That makes sense.
 
Your radio still got any juice?
 
Mine’s down to one bar."

Ted ripped the radio off his chest rig.
 
"It's got a little left.
 
Keep it tight and only use it if you run into trouble.
 
I don't think they’re gonna last another day."
 
He looked around and scratched his head.
 
"There's gotta be something in this damn town that we can use to charge these things."

"I don't see much fire damage around here…" Erik observed.
 
"Just a few buildings a few couple blocks back and the stadium.
 
If there's anybody here, they seem to have at least been able to take care of the place."

"Well, find out if you can see anybody.
 
And for fuck's sake be careful."

Erik slapped his helmet, leaving the chinstrap to dangle against his neck.
 
"Hey, it's me."

"Yeah, I know.
 
Call me if you run into trouble.
 
If you can't get through on the radio, fire two shots.
 
I'll be able to figure out which direction you're coming from."

Erik shouldered his pack and picked up his rifle from the front seat.
 
He shifted the weight on his back until it settled into the comfort zone and slung his rifle over his shoulder, bringing the weapon up and sliding the stock into the sweet spot on his shoulder.
 

"Okay, wish me luck.
 
I'll be back as soon as I can."

Erik trotted off in the darkness, hoping Brin would shout
 
about being safe.
 
Disappointed at her silence, he moved across the sidewalk to the waist-high brick wall that surrounded the library.
 
Seeing no movement, he quickly hopped it and crouched on the far side.
 

The library itself was a three-story tall brick rectangle, separated by recessed narrow windows.
 
Megalithic in his design, the massive structure looked impenetrable.
 
Without the windows, he could easily imagine it being a prison or fortress.
 

Erik jogged up the side of the building and peered through the trees across the deserted parking lot.
 
Satisfied
 
no one was out and about, he worked his way around the south side of the building.
 
Turning the corner, he found a large open space crisscrossed with walking paths, surrounded by buildings.
 

The lawn was about the size of two football fields and in dire need of some landscaping.
 
The library occupied the southwest corner of the green.
 
To the north, he spotted a building that seemed more at home in a state capitol.
 
It looked like a cross between Independence Hall and Monticello, sporting a bright white dome atop a solid brick structure.

How old is this place?
 
These buildings look like they’ve
 
been here since the 1800s.
 

Erik scoped out the sidewalks that crossed the open space, almost like a Roman forum.
 
Admiring the school's landscaping, he shifted his gaze along the front of the library.
 

The upper floors consisted mostly of windows.
 
He moved cautiously down the front until he stepped under the overhang and approached the main entrance.
 
Cautiously checking each one, he found them all locked.
 
It didn't surprise him in the least.
 

What did surprise him was the barricade of two white trucks and one police cruiser at the base of the curved steps leading up to the entrance.
 
The trucks had seen battle—bullet holes stitched the hoods and all the tires had burned, leaving the chassis permanently in place at the bottom of the steps.
 

The police cruiser bore a Newark University campus police logo as did one of the white pickup trucks.
 
He took another look around the open area which he began thinking of as the quad.
 

 
Scattered all around the open space and along the pathways, the trees all had orange and yellow leaves, lending a riotous color to the overgrown grass and weeds that had taken over the outdoor area.
 
The domed structure to the north looked like it had been damaged recently.
 
Fully one half of it looked black and charred.

Erik turned and looked back the way he'd come.
 
Somebody went to a lot of trouble to block off that walkway.

His eyes followed the outline of the building up to the second floor, and he noticed a window open above the main entrance.
 
It wasn't open much, but the shadow it cast against the wall in the dim light was just enough for Erik to realize the window had been left open on purpose.

"So
that's
how you get in and out," he muttered to himself.
 
"Question is how to get up there?"
 

At first glance, looking along the rough stuccoed exterior, the walls didn't seem capable of providing hand or footholds for someone to climb up.
 
However, as he moved closer to the northernmost door, he noticed chunks of the exterior of the building had been hacked out for someone to put a hand or foot.
 
He stared at the indentation for a moment and then let his eyes drift up to the porch roof and saw a pattern of alternating depressions in the facade.
 

Sneaky.
 
I like it.