Chapter 6: The Long And Winding Road

Having made several practice runs back and forth to St. Louis via I-70 and twice by back roads, the quartet felt they were familiar enough with their two chosen vehicles to finalize their preparations. They knew that the bridge over the Mississippi was clear, as was I-70 all the way to I-55. The plan was to zigzag between I-55 and I-57 up to the south of Chicago, then across to Washington, DC primarily on US 30. They could hit several universities and state capitals, but really had few specific stops planned.

When possible, they wanted to avoid the interstate system so that they could get up close and personal to farms, towns, and their lost country. They expected the roughly thousand-mile journey to Washington to almost double. The necessity for driving slow to avoid stalled vehicles and similar issues, meant they planned to average little more than a couple of hundred miles per day.

April first broke clear and warm. It was a good day to start a journey, and they left the city limits of Columbia shortly after an early breakfast. Using the communications ability of their ‘translators’, they could all chat easily back and forth, sharing the pleasure of the early spring day and the excitement of their journey.

Violet led out in the Sienna with Beryl as her co-pilot. The two dogs were to be kept kenneled in back until they settled into the routine of travel. Following back about a hundred yards, Scarlett was driving the Coach - which they had christened ‘The Whale’ - with Honey as co-pilot and Rose in the middle section, ready to launch a drone at need. Sugar was designated as the backup drone pilot, observer, and navigator.

Having traveled back and forth on Interstate 70 between Columbia and St. Louis, they knew the road was clear of vehicles, though the occasional burned out house or barn was still a disturbing distraction. Making good time, they reached Lambert Field in something under two hours and stopped to stretch and switch off drivers. Nothing had changed much in the area of the airport, but on the field itself, all the runways and taxiways had been cleared. Now the Travelers’ pilots used the facilities there for the heavier aircraft they flew as the newcomers explored and shuttled in needed supplies.

When they re-boarded their vehicles, the young women headed for their next planned break at Love’s Travel Stop just off I-55 in Hamel, Illinois. This segment would have once taken under an hour, now it was three hours and after lunchtime before they reached their goal.

Along the way there were frequent slowdowns and halts to use the drones to check ahead on the Interstate for stalled vehicles ahead. Occasionally, all lanes were blocked and cars or trucks needed to be moved, though the timing of the disaster kept the frequency down. Moving bodies from drivers’ seats was still an unpleasant task, and early on, it became clear that the lead vehicle needed an additional person to help clear blockages. Rose moved forward to the Sienna.

At any stop where there were fences, especially if there were animals present, those not occupied with moving stalled vehicles took their wire cutters and opened paths so animals could migrate. Unfortunately, they sometimes saw the carcasses of cattle or horses killed by starvation, the cold of winter, or even packs of dogs. No one went unarmed, and there was always one person on guard wherever someone worked.

Honey, as designated communicator, used a satellite phone to keep Bub informed of their observations and status.

As they approached their designated way stop, Scarlett heard Beryl, who was about a mile ahead, “There’s something of a pileup at the off ramp. We’re stopping so we can launch the drone.”

Scarlett acknowledged and slowed to a stop so that Beryl would have time to scout out a route off. She turned to her companions and told them, “You know, this is the perfect reason we should refuel every time we stop. We have hundreds of miles left in our tank now, but that might not always be the case. When we stop, let’s break out the pumps and make topping off a priority.”

Violet stopped in the middle of the Interstate, before the exit and about fifty feet from the rearmost vehicle, a VW ‘Bug’. Rose slid back her door and placed a drone on the pavement. Seating herself back in the minivan, she guided her buzzing craft over the traffic jam. She decided to start at the head of the stalled mess and work back to the Sienna.

Once over the exit ramp, she could see that the ramp was completely impassable. An eighteen-wheeler had jackknifed on the curve, and a following truck had plowed into it. The two, together with three cars, blocked the entire width of the ramp. Working back, many vehicles had slowed or stopped to watch or wait, with the occupants dying as they sat or stood outside. In the left lane, past the jam, five cars appeared to have edged by, then halted when their drivers died shortly afterwards.

“It can be done,” Rose reported to the two drivers, “but it will be tricky and take some time.” She continued, “We’ll have to pass the exit - no way down that - then go down the on-ramp. Violet can make a U-turn for that, but I’m not so sure if it wouldn’t be easier for Scarlett to back the Whale down the ramp. Anyway, us non-drivers need to move forward and clear away any vehicles blocking the shoulder and the area around the on-ramp.”

“We don’t know what might be around, so loose the hounds and everybody keep a weapon with them,” Scarlett directed. “Let’s see what we can do to clear the shoulder and get moving again.”

As Scarlett moved the Whale to a few car lengths behind the Sienna, she saw that Beryl and Rose were already moving cars. Working at the front of the jam, they found the most difficulty. Some cars that had passed the exit and stopped with engine running, had run out of fuel and had to be pushed out of the way. Those stopped at and before the exit had usually been turned off.

Once any driver’s body was removed, the car could be started and driven down the road and out of the way. Some twenty-three vehicles - including two eighteen-wheelers - had to be moved, and the walk back to the jam took more time. Other than empty tanks and dead batteries, the biggest headaches were the safety barriers immediately bordering stretches of shoulder Both the Traveler sisters and Beryl added to their vocabularies of not-so-nice expressions. Nevertheless, the sweating women were grateful that only two cars had to be pushed, and one other had been placed in neutral and pushed by the car behind it.

While their backups moved vehicles and the dogs explored, the two primary drivers stretched and took turns flying the drone to watch for dangers and to get the lay of the land. As time passed, Scarlett ferried bottles of cold water and juice to the workers and the two dogs.

Finally, the way was cleared for the two vehicles to pass the jam. Engines were started, dogs were retrieved, and they eased past the line. Scarlett was glad of her hours of driving large trucks and practicing with the Whale, because, even after clearing the stalled vehicles, the narrow open space along the shoulder was barely wide enough for her to squeeze past. BUT, with the on-ramp lane and the lack of close-in safety barriers, Scarlett had little difficulty turning the Whale down the on-ramp and traveling from there to Love’s.

They had hoped to picnic at Love’s, but outside there was neither shade nor grassy spots. Power was off, but the restrooms were clean and empty of bodies. Their LED lanterns enabled them to see well enough to replace their bottled water, but vermin of some kind had clearly been at edibles stored in bags, so they declined to use any perishables.

They took out the two battery powered fuel pumps, accessed the tanks, and topped off both vehicles. While refueling their vehicles the dogs saw to business, and Scarlett made a decision. “Whether we were going to exit here or travel on, we were blocked. I think we’ll see more situations like this on the Interstates than on secondary roads. Let’s try something different when we leave.”

Pulling out from Love’s, they headed over to the frontage road on the west side of I-55 and turned north. When they came to a house with nice-sized trees, they stopped, spread a tarp, and ate from a cooler full of goodies prepared in Columbia.

Now two hours behind their estimate, they turned back onto the frontage road, a section of old Route 66, and followed it until they reached Staunton. There they shifted over to Highway 4 and took the back roads towards the night’s destination - Springfield and the University of Illinois campus.

Taking secondary roads proved to be smart. As Scarlett hoped, the roads were mostly empty, with few vehicles stopped and no blocked roads. Certainly, this close to the interstate, there were no large trucks of any kind on the secondary roads. If the ‘die-off’ had occurred in daylight hours, the conditions would surely have been different.

Sadly, though, much of last year’s crops were still in the field - sometimes standing tall, other times flattened by wind, rain, or both. Occasionally, they saw large flocks of geese and other birds feasting on the grain, and once they saw a fox working its way towards a large fowl-occupied field.

They passed through Carlinville, and took a short detour when they saw a sign for Blackburn College. As expected, the depressingly silent campus was deserted. “I do agree that a campus is a likely place for survivors to go,” Rose told them. “Plus, there’s usually a place we can pee.”

She was correct with her second assertion. They found an unlocked door to the Demuzio Campus Center and took advantage of restroom facilities while they stretched and swapped drivers. Then they loaded up and continued on their way to Springfield.

Their route was fortuitous for another reason. It was late afternoon and they were two miles south of Chatham, when they saw a column of smoke. As they drove into town, they saw a building in flames, followed by house after house burned to the ground - ashes cold. This was a new phenomenon, and they had to investigate.

Shortly after passing a sign stating ‘Chatham Community Park’ they came to Walnut Street where there was a large, white, plywood, hand-painted sign with an arrow pointing east and the legend ‘THIS WAY’. They followed until they came to Breckenridge Road, where a similar sign pointed south, shortly followed by another pointing back west to a cul-de-sac. In front of a very nice home with a green manicured lawn, was another sign ‘Wait HERE! I WILL be back! Jennie.’

The sign was entirely unnecessary. As the Sienna pulled into the driveway, a blonde, pint-sized girl - woman - she had cupcake boobs - dashed from the house shouting. Sugar was the first out and the girl ran to her and buried her face in the young Traveler’s chest. “I dreamed of you. You came for me, and I don’t havta be lonely anymore.”

Scarlett parked the Whale on the street, and the remaining women scrambled out to join the others surrounding their new miracle. After a moment, she recovered a little and told the circle of women, “My name is Jin Ae Hahn. It’s Korean. My friends mostly call me Jennie.”

She was, indeed, of Asian descent, but with blue almond eyes and blonde hair, including her eyebrows. Jin Ae was short, not quite five feet tall, and slim with some curves to go with her small breasts. She wore black, tight jeans, a light-colored tee with an open cardigan sweater. Likely she didn’t wear shoes in the house, because her feet were in fluffy pink bunny slippers.

Each of the women hugged Jennie in turn and gave their names. Beryl looked very closely, then declared, “Scarlett, she’s one of you. Jin Ae has all the signs.”

“Yeah, and I think I saw her in one of ‘those’ dreams,” Scarlett responded.

The young woman looked puzzled. Then she said, “Come on in; sit or stretch. Let me make you a cool drink, and you can explain.” The sextet entered into a spotless, well lit, upper middleclass home. Rose asked, “Power? None of the city lights were working as we came in.”

“I was really busy for a while,” Jennie answered, “I knew that power would fail sooner or later, so that was one of my first priorities. Here, the library, supermarkets, frozen goods warehouse, server farms, and a couple of other places on campus. That’s about it. I hooked up natural gas generators and windmills.”

Her guests looked at her in amazement. “How old are you?” Scarlett managed to squeak out.

“I don’t wanta say,” Jennie replied. “I wanna be treated as an adult. You guys look young, just consider me another you.” She continued, “If it helps, my halmoni - that’s Korean for grandmother - said I was going to be a polymath, and I think she was correct. I seem to absorb things...”

She looked around at her guests, “If maybe Sugar can help me, I’ll get those promised drinks and some munchies. Then I’ll tell you about me, and you can tell me about you.” Jennie was clearly attracted to Sugar...

“While you’re doing that, I’m going to walk and water Boner and Loki,” Violet told them. Answering Jennie’s questioning look, she said, “Our dogs. There’s a story. We’ll tell you later.”

The others sat waiting, mostly silent, but each trying to make sense of their unexpected discovery. Honey used the interlude to call her father and give him a quick update. She promised Bub more information when she had it.

Sugar and Jennie returned shortly with two large bags of potato chips with dip, a bowl of pretzels, and drinks all around. Sugar knowing her gang’s preferences, had selected from Jennie’s stock. As they situated themselves, Jennie snuggled tight under Sugar’s left arm, and a very gray cat stalked into the room. He took his survey and studiously avoided Beryl as he crossed to the other side and departed.

“That’s the Gray Mouser,” Jennie told them. “I mostly call him ‘Mouse’ unless he’s been naughty. A coyote ate Fafhrd two years ago. Mouse misses his buddy, and he’s not been very social since. He does get along with most dogs,” she said, reminded of the two waiting outside. Turning questioning eyes on Scarlett, she asked, “I guess it’s a good thing if I go with you? You will take us?”

There was an answering chorus of “Yes!” “Of course!” “You bet!”

Jennie sighed and settled into her story. “I was born eight months after my mother died.” She waited for a reaction, but her guests were now fully accustomed to strange and weird things, so they kept silent and waited. Disappointed, Jennie continued, “When she was almost twelve, she was raped, beaten, and left for dead. By the time they determined that she was brain dead, they also knew she was pregnant. Halmoni insisted that Mother be kept on life support until I spontaneously aborted or was born.”

“Halmoni was very young when mother was born. She was a student and had a fling. She never spoke of my grandfather. She stayed in school until she had a PhD in physics, and then she moved here to teach at the university up the road in Springfield. Both she and Mother were prodigies - high genius level - so I was not much of a surprise in that regard. What was beyond Halmoni’s experience was the breadth of my talents.”

“When I was born, she named me Jin Ae which she said means ‘beautiful wisdom’ or depending on the Korean characters used, ‘truth, treasure, and love’.” She grinned an impish smile and told them, “I was into everything before I could walk. From the first, we used sign language for everyday things. And when my mouth was formed well enough to talk, I told her that I had become aware before I was born. I had no words, but I was aware.”

“I don’t remember learning to read; I just can. Halmoni home schooled me, because I was kicked out of kindergarten for ‘contradicting’ my teachers. She enrolled me in on-line classes in her name because I was too young. She had to buy me one of those tablet-sized Bluetooth keyboards so I could touch type. Learning that way was fun but hard. The theory I knew, but when everyone died, I had almost no practical experience. Who would have let a kid work around high voltages or heavy machinery - Ya know?”

“Sooo, I’ve been taking care of myself. Just about every day at noon, I go out and burn a house hoping someone will see the smoke and investigate. You saw at least some of my signs.”

“Besides my halmoni, Kathy across the street was my only friend. She was handicapped and home schooled, too. Lots of times, I was her hands.” A tear leaked, and she sniffled. “When I found Grandmother dead, I went over to Kathy’s, but she and her mother were dead, too. Halmoni, Kathy, and Kathy’s mother were the only people I buried.”

“Let me tell you something weird,” Jennie told them, “I’m a good person, but when I was eight, I don’t know how, but I think I did something very bad. My father the rapist contacted me and wanted me to visit him in prison. I knew he just wanted to use me, and I hated the thought, so I didn’t tell Halmoni.”

“That night I had a dream. In it, I baked some brownies and got Kathy’s mother to take me to see the rapist-murderer,” She grinned wickedly and told them. “I went prepared! After the guards probed, x-rayed, and whatevered the brownies, they were pretty much a pan of chocolate crumbs, but the jackal started eating them anyway. When he was about half way through the pan, I looked at him and said, ‘You killed my mamma, you asshole. Promise to never contact me again, or I won’t tell you what the antidote is.’”

The group was startled, then laughed.

Jennie’s dream-story continued, “I knew from Halmoni that he started out as an intelligent man, but his drug abuse must have fried his brain, because he just looked at me. He didn’t get it, ya know? Kathy’s mom looked horrified, but I poked her and winked. She wasn’t dumb, so she nodded.”

“I had to explain what an antidote was and for what. When he got it, he bent over, stuck a finger down his throat, and puked all over himself. Then I said, ‘Won’t help, you know. Whatever is in those brownies is in your system, and I’ll bet you’re already starting to feel tingly.’ I watched him pee his pants.”

“In my dream, there wasn’t anything in that pan but brownies, but I wasn’t about to tell him that,” she explained. “Instead, I said that some cultures considered urine to be medicinal, and that he might want to consider eight ounces every four hours or so, for at least five days.”

Now, Honey started giggling uncontrollably. The rest followed, and then degenerated into belly laughs. It was a catharsis for Jenny to have someone - someones - to share her hurt and her dream of revenge.

“When I was leaving, I told him, ‘Everyone here knows you plea bargained to murder, but when they find out you raped a little girl, your life’s gonna get worse. If I were you, I wouldn’t eat anything that comes in the mail or that someone gives you. Just like this time, you’ll never know if something’s in it.’ I waved as I left him. ‘Bye you evil scumbag. Have a horrible rest of your life!’”

“It was all so real. On the way out, we even stopped in the office, and I told one of the guards, ‘In case someone happened to be listening, there’s nothing in those brownies but brownie mix. If you listen carefully, I never said there was. But since that corrupt governor abolished the death penalty trying to get away with his own crimes, I had to do something!‘“