Apocalypse, Coast to Coast [Irish & Nutella]

[Irish]

September, 2023

Three years ago I wouldn’t have thought I could make it this far. I have crossed three states, been ambushed, shot at, nearly stabbed, beat, tricked, and have killed more times than I’d care to remember. Some of that was by pure dumb luck. The rest of the time I was just better than the other guy.

I suppose I’m just reflecting on all this since It’s close to three years now since everything went to shit. It was about a three months after the bug crashed the economy, food stopped getting restocked, and people were losing their minds. Different groups started taking advantage of the situation, getting even with rivals, carving out their own little spheres of influence. Starving masses became like a wave of desperate locusts, and it didn’t matter if you were generous or if you were well armed. They wanted what you had, and if there weren’t enough of you with the firepower of a Marine company you wouldn’t hold out for long. That’s how these communities survive. They banded together, centralizing around their shared values and turning away outsiders looking to cause trouble, by words or by force.

Hell, that’s worked out for us more than once.

—

The complex locally known as Bartertown sat adjacent to the old State Highway 99, just a few miles southeast of the now sparsely populated Red Bluff, California. Bartertown was set on the side of an old fabrication shop that manufactured equipment for solar farms, and as such had its own self sustaining power. The massive parking lot was now a large open-air trader’s market, and the old manufacturing warehouse had been turned into a combined trade hub and fortress. It was strictly “neutral territory.” Any trouble started was likely to be the last trouble you ever made. Keep it strictly business as generally there would be no trouble. And business was why Kyle and Sam were there.

They were somewhat known to the proprietors of Bartertown. Being useful and doing an odd job here and there generally netted repeat business or a friendly word of reference. They specialized in acquisition; anytime someone wanted something specific, and would pay well for it, they were the ones to go to. They were known to travel further and into rougher places that most avoided, and they were reliable.

Parked nearer to the edge of the open air market, a large and heavy duty SUV sat with its trunk open, a large canvas canopy set up to provide an area of shade and cover the exterior of the vehicle. Beneath the cover of the canopy, a slight figure reclined back in a folding camp chair, its booted foot propped against an ammo can acting as a footstool, rocking the chair on two of its legs in soft motion. The figure was hard to distinguish, wearing ill-fitting cargo pants and a bulky looking camouflage jacket. The jacket’s hood was pulled up over the figure’s ballcap, and a gaiter covered their face up to the eyes. With arms crossed, one would think the figure asleep, were it not for the rocking or the dark blue eyes peering from underneath the hood.

In the back of the SUV, the cargo space held a pair of closed storage boxes, stacked one atop the other to leave room for a quilt atop which lay a large German Shepherd, which was in fact sleeping away. The rest of the vehicle interior was obstructed by another sheet of canvas that hung behind the rear seats.

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Sometime in 2023

Mom wanted all of us kids to becomes something useful, like a cooks or utility workers. She had a romantic streak, naming me Desdemona but being the youngest of a gaggle of offspring, I was left pretty much on my own. I learned adults try to hide the facts from kids, thinking we couldn’t handle the truth. Well the truth was there since I could remember, taunting me with the awareness that mom wasn’t equipped to raise us all, which by the way for the record was a baker’s dozen. We went hungry often, moved almost daily, and never knew what tomorrow would bring. Watching and observing my older sibs was how I learned to chart my future. I was determined not to follow in some of their footsteps, uneducated and trapped by life’s circumstances, I spent every moment learning, in pursuit of becoming a real value to society. Now, one of them sent a message to me, my sister Angela. The one who shared her food and kept me safe. She was pregnant with her second child. Her first nearly killed her and she hoped I could help. By the time the message found me in Bartertown a month later, she was seven months along. I had to find a way to get to her.

Being the physician of Bartertown’s powerful had its perks. I got the okay to leave and planned to return when my sister delivered the baby. (Actually, they really put up a fight and was willing to block my departure. But I signed a contract to return and work for free for a year) I packed a rucksack of medical supplies, some personal belongings, and gave instructions to the woman who would watch the small clinic while I was away. She didn’t have a degree in medicine but learned a lot by watching. We both prayed nothing too extreme would happen in my absence.

----

A female of medium height dressed in sturdy non-descript clothing slipped through the marketplace. Not many people knew Mona personally but kept their distance, aware that she had influence with the rich and powerful. She looked serious and walked with a purpose, backpack over one shoulder and a rucksack slung over the other. What they didn’t see was the valuable document tucked in her vest declaring her position in Bartertown. Stamped and notarized, it confirmed her safe access through all territories. Any undue harassment would seriously jeopardize the perpetrator’s status in Bartertown and any town that held an alliance with them. Another letter was stuffed in her rucksack requesting ‘To Whom it May Concern’ (but you know who you are) in helping Mona make the trek to Monterey Bay Outpost. A generous compensation would be given upon her safe return.

She approached the outskirts of the open air market, slowing cautiously as she drew nearer to the monstrosity of an SUV they told her to look for. Clearing her throat, Mona spoke to the lounging figure under the canopy. “My name is Mona Rothman and I have a letter from the Bartertown council. I need get somewhere and they said you could help.”

 

[Irish]

Upon hearing the woman’s voice, the canine in the back of the SUV raised its head, ears raised and directed forward. It made no sound, but watched intently. The seated figure acknowledged her presence by scanning over her with little movement of their own. When Mona finished, silence passed for several seconds before the figure reached back and knocked a gloved band harshly against the brake light four times, eyes remaining on the woman standing before them. The dog licked its chops once then yawned, lowering its head back down yet leaving its eyes open.

The front driver side door opened, and from that side of the vehicle another figure approached. He was noticeably taller than the one seated, and wore less that obstructed his features, though he was similarly dressed in functional and rugged clothing; Olive colored pants that seemed to have built in pockets at the knees, worn brown leather boots caked with dust, and a dark gray and black jacket zipped up. His hair was short and dark and slightly unkempt, his narrow face lined with perhaps a few days of stubble growth. His dark blue eyes glanced first to the seated figure before taking note of Mora. He seemed short and businesslike when he spoke, his voice low with a slight gravelliness to it. “What is it that you need?” was what he said, his hands in his jacket pockets as he seemed to study the newcomer.

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Mona noticed the German Shepard watching them, ears perked forward. It looked well cared for, coat thick and shiny. She observed the driver’s door swing open and a new person step out. They told her there would be two in the outfit. He was much taller than the first (gender unclear under all the clothing, hood, and gaiter). The man's face was narrow, shadowed with stubble along the jawline, with a guarded expression. Was he the leader? It was hard to tell.

Answering him, she responded, “I need to get to Monterey Bay Outpost.” She put the rucksack down to pull out the letter. “They wanted me to give this to you, saying you’d understand.” Her dark eyes met his unflinchingly, a slender hand held the document out for inspection.

Not wanting to appear too weak or aggressive, Mona stepped up but only close enough to have the letter within grabbing distance. “I didn’t catch your names?” She asked politely, mentally wondering if this was going to be something she'd regret getting herself into later.

 

[Irish]

The man watched patiently as she dug what turned out to be an envelope from her bag. He contemplated her words as she stood and extended it out for him to take. Three years ago a trip down south would take just a few hours. However, with the road networks in disrepair and worsening every year, that could easily take days. The odds were worse still with hostile entities in play. Reaching out, the man took the envelope, giving the face of it a short glance before turning it over and breaking the seal.

“I’m Kyle,” he stated, obliging her request for their names. He took his eyes off the letter for a moment to regard Mona before nodding toward his companion. “This is Sam.” His eyes returned to the letter, studying its contents before folding it closed again. “Two way trip,” Kyle said then. “Three or so days if the road is in our favor. Longer otherwise. That’s not including however long you plan to stay there.”

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Mona's dark brown eye's quickly glanced back at his companion, so well clothed that it was difficult to tell if Sam was a girl or boy, wondering if that was a deliberate strategy. Acknowledging Kyle's comment with a nod, "Yes, a two way trip. The council's expecting my return as soon as the business is resolved." She avoided sharing the detail that the trip was personal, unsure if they would still take the job. "Can't say exactly how long I need to be there but however the length, they will compensate you handsomely." Being the only physician in these parts, the woman was worth her weight in gold. Which is why the documents were important to keep safe, physical validation that the proprietors and their allies would work together to exact punishment if anything were to happen to her.

"I am ready to leave now, unless you need time to prepare." She didn't want to appear pushy to her new guides, hoping the wait before their departure wouldn't be too long. Securing a dark baseball cap over her short curly hair, the healer waited with bated breath. Looking at a well worn map that showed both Bartertown and Monterey Bay Outpost, the distance didn't seem too daunting but she knew there was a drastic difference from looking at something intellectually and living the journey.

 

[Irish]

Kyle mulled over her words thoughtfully. Generally, the people who ran Bartertown were good to their word. Having been screwed more than once typically soured one’s trust in others, however. If Kyle would have his way, a minimum of twenty-five or thirty percent would be required up front, and pay in full immediately upon return to ensure “completion of service” as he liked to call it. The rule was if you short me, I short you. If he felt a client wasn’t on the up-and-up, they’d take measures to safeguard their work. One way or another.

At present though, Bartertown had proven to be decently reliable, so at length Kyle nodded his head. Besides, if they didn’t take the work, someone else would, and the pay to go with it. “Okay then,” he started. “Before we get under way, I should tell you it can get rough on the road. If I say do something, it’s because I need you to do it, alright?”

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Mona nodded. She trusted who the proprietors selected as reliable guides since they had a vested interest. Physicians were hard to come by nowadays. "I leave the navigation to you." Holding up her backpack and additional bag, she inquired where to store them and how could she help with their departure. The shepherd watched from its vantage point the conversation between the humans, head resting on paws and dark soulful eyes bouncing from speaker to speaker.

 

[Irish]

“Good,” Kyle said simply. To make room for their passenger’s possessions, he snapped his fingers twice, to which the shepherd stood up in the back of the vehicle and jumped down onto the pavement. After a lengthy stretch, it circled around and followed Sam as they began to break down their temporary shelters. Inside of five minutes they had the canopy clipped from its tie downs, rolled up smartly, and strapped to the rear of the roof mounted cargo rack. They did it efficiently and in such a way that the entire canopy could be pulled across the top of the truck and over the front, for the purpose of either shelter or concealment. Once the task was done, Sam’s chair was folded up and anything else that was laying out was wordlessly and with practiced fluidity stowed away. The smaller of the two opened the passenger side rear door and gestured to the canine, which quickly jumped into the back seat before Sam climbed into the front. Kyle opened the other rear door, leaving it open for Mona herself.

After all had found their places, Kyle climbed into the driver seat. Inside the truck, it seemed there wasn’t a single space that had use that wasn’t occupied. There was a radio mounted alongside a single handheld GPS device atop the dash. A durable laptop sat closed in a mount between the seats, able to be angled towards either occupant. The front of the glove box was lined with an adhesive backed Velcro to the face of which several small pouches with flap closures were affixed. Both Kyle and Sam visibly had short carbines of some model stuffed in the footwells, secured in place by tucking the loaded magazines between the seat and the center console, clearly so positioned as to be able to grab them quickly on exiting the vehicle. Noteably, the ceiling over the two front seats was lined with an eclectic assortment of various patches. Among them were numerous logos, insignia, flags of various states and nations, and any variety of designs featuring slogans. Space Shuttle Door Gunner, Rock Out With Your Glock Out, and others. They were all in differing states of condition, from near new to visibly frayed and dirty.

Turning the key, Kyle brought the truck to life. The engine rumbled, coming to an easy idle before its driver popped it into gear. There was really only one way out, following the edge of the parking lot towards its exit at Bartertown’s gate. Seeing the truck approach, the men manning the gate pulled it open, moving it aside for the three of them to depart with a simple light wave of the hand from Kyle behind the wheel. A moment later, the gate was closing behind them and the highway lay before them, a vast stretch of asphalt, it’s former glory long fading.

“Have you been to Monterey Outpost before?” Kyle said, speaking up.

 

[BeBop Nomad]

She watched the production of putting things away and getting the vehicle prepared to leave, a very tight and efficient process. Reflecting on the situations they probably needed to move out quickly, it made total sense. Kyle left the back door open for her and Mona scrambled in, observing that the interior was as organized and neat. She strapped herself into the seat beside the dog, wondering aloud if it had a name. Not spacious, there was still room for her backpack and medical supplies.

"I was in Bartertown right before the crash and suspect the world outside has changed dramatically." She slowly extended a knuckled fist for her four-legged companion to investigate and was rewarded with tentative sniff. "So in answer to your question, no I've never been to Monterey Outpost. Have you?" It'd been a long time since she rode in any type of automobile. The seat was relatively comfortable considering and side windows protected by a grill. However, they still offered a limited view to her relief. Mona allowed a tiny glimmer of hope, imagining she might be seeing Angela soon. At the same time, the anxious side of her feared what lay ahead, gates and armed guards disappearing quickly as they gained speed. "How long do you think before we get there?"

 

[Irish]

“Depending on conditions,” Kyle started to reply, “three or four days. That’s assuming no trouble arises.” Kyle knew as well as anyone who had made any amount of travel that outside the sphere of influence of an established faction, power came from the barrel of a gun, and deceit was commonplace. Patrols from Bartertown didn’t typically travel in this southward direction much further than Los Molinos, and even with the detiorating condition of the road it wouldn’t be long before they were passing that point.

“We know of one major safe zone along be way,” he remarked. “And we’ve used a few places to bed down for the night that are pretty quiet.”

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Riding in silence, she sank into quiet reflection, remembering a time before the collapse of everything. Life hadn’t been a bed of roses but there’d been some highlights. Mona had just completed her residency and was on the way home for some time with the family. Mark, her ex-boyfriend, agreed to a contract with Columbia Hospital in New York City and begged her to come with but she preferred to practice on the West Coast. Besides she wasn’t too sure if what they had was real love and when the internet died, it’d been harder to stay in contact. He was busy at the hospital and she’d been stranded at Bartertown. There was no way now to tell if Mark was even alive still.

Now here she was riding in back of a strange SUV, her life in the hands of strangers. The loud purr of the engine filled the cab. “So how did the two of you meet?” Unconsciously, Mona’s hands waved between the two individuals up front. Were they related, a couple, or the remains of a military company? Waiting for a response, her fingers located the soft spot at the base of the dog’s ears and scratched thoughtfully.

 

[Irish]

There was a notable silence from the occupants of the front seats after Mona voiced her question. A quiet exchange of half glances, no words spoken between the two. Sam made a slight shrug of the shoulders, then brought both hands up to pull their hood back, followed by slender fingers tugging the neck gaiter down. Sam’s narrow face was apparent even from a side profile, with high cheekbones and a slim neck. A mess of short, neck length brown hair spilled out from under her ballcap, and she half turned her head to regard Mona with youthful blue eyes for a moment before directing them back towards the road stretched out before them like a great asphalt serpent, it’s skin cracked and scarred.

“You could say we’ve known each other her whole life,” Kyle said finally after Sam had unmasked herself. There was almost hardly any guessing to be made; the eyes and ears were the same, and there was similar facial structure, though Sam’s was notably more feminine. The resemblance between father and daughter was hard to miss.

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Mona was impressed and very curious about the story behind their current status. From what the shareholders said, the pair was trustworthy and had successfully accomplished many a mission for them. She wondered if they even knew that Sam was female.

"So, how long have the two of you been in this business?" She didn't want to be rude but a father and daughter team was not a commonplace thing. "I'd love to hear some of your adventures." The physician sensed there was more to them than met the eye, leaning forward to catch every word. With several days ahead of them on the road, she hoped their stories could make some of the time fly by.

 

[Irish]

“Two years,” spoke up Sam. Her voice was as soft as one would expect a young woman to have. She picked up the metal bottle sitting in one of the cup holders and opened it before taking a drink. She was short spoken of it, returning the cap to the bottle before turning her eyes to watch out the window of her door.

“Our adventures?” Kyle interjected after a moment of silence - save for the road noise. “Just honest work, and survival. Same as anyone else, really.” As he navigated the highway, veering just enough to manage avoiding significant holes and the occasional derelict vehicle, he kept his eyes scanning periodically, with almost consistent timing, as if well practiced in this habit. “What was it you said you did, again?”

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Mona nodded, hearing both Sam and Kyle, "Two years probably seems like a lifetime." She could tell their energy was focused, watching the rough road ahead, vigilant to any odd disturbances. They were busy doing the job. The doctor explained her life briefly, training, looking for work, and finally signing a contract with Bartertown. The outpost had its own brand of government, rules, and regulations that everyone lived by. Compared to other towns though, the people who settled there were treated fairly. Finally exhausting conversation, the cab feel silent.

Nothing to entertain wandering thoughts, she studied everything in sight; the extra supplies stuffed under each chair, including additional clips of ammunition, and food. Knowing space was a premium and being a passenger obviously meant sitting in the back seat. Mona was thankful for not being any taller, legs already feeling folded up and cramped. Between the lack of oxygen, boredom, and the monotonous drone of the engine, her eyelids fought a losing battle. Head resting against the side window, sleep was so deep that her jaw relaxed, mouth opening. Pointy ears of the German Shepperd twitched, hearing her quiet snores.

 

[Irish]

The pair in the front seats noticed when Mona fell asleep simply by the absence of speech. Not ones to wake a sleeping passenger, they saw fit to let her have her rest. Their road was a long one, and there was little telling what lay waiting ahead.

Perhaps a couple of hours further into their drive, and the road became more difficult to navigate. Whether by seismic activity or man’s intent the steep hillside that ran along the road had crumbled in places leaving scattered chunks of rock strewn here and there, slowing progress as Kyle had to proceed at a lower speed in order to navigate around the larger boulders. Perhaps twenty minutes of this eventually came to a stop, as a large section of the adjacent hill had collapsed entirely, cutting off the road. Instinctively, Kyle put the truck in reverse, pulling it back around the last bend in the road, lest they risk sitting in the potential kill zone of an ambush.

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Brain finally at rest, no daily schedule of patients waiting to be seen and the journey ahead not in her scope of control, Mona allowed herself fall asleep completely. Jarred awake by her head whacking the headrest abruptly, she noticed the terrain ahead getting harder to navigate. A quick covert movement of wiping away an errant drop of drool, she wondered aloud how much time must have passed but father and daughter were too focused to answer, watchful of any threats.

The doctor admired their copacetic team work and quietly reflected over the mystery of where was Kyle's wife, aka Sam's mom. So many family units had been torn asunder by the fall of society and her active imagination came up with a least a dozen possible scenarios. Regardless, Mona vowed not to pry and ruminated on ways to be an easy passenger, not one who Kyle and Sam were eager to eject as soon as the contract was over.

 

[Irish]

Once the hillside collapse was out of view, Kyle put the truck in park. He waited for a moment before opening his door, while Sam lifted her gaiter over her face. The pairs’ eyes scanned ahead and beside them, drifting over any obvious potential hiding places. There was no easy way to determine if the collapse had happened naturally, or was intentional. Even if it was caused by man, that didn’t mean some enterprising individual couldn’t use it to their advantage.

Slowly climbing out, Kyle pulled the carbine that was stashed alongside his leg free from its place. He brought it to his shoulder, reaching up with his left hand to turn a dial on the tube that was mounted to the top of the weapon. Turning the magnification up to eight power, he quickly scanned over a few locations, ones that he probably would have chosen if he had intended on ambushing someone on this road. While he did so, Sam reached up, grabbing the oh-shit handle and lifting her legs out the footwell before swinging them over the center console, planting herself in the driver’s seat her father had previously occupied. Kyle glanced over her way, exchanging looks with her before proceeding out into the road cautiously. As he moved, Sam let the truck roll forward, just enough to keep him in view.

As he approached the pile of crumbled rubble, Kyle found as solid footing in it as he could, clambering up, holding his weapon with one hand while using the other to catch himself if he stumbled. The rubble had settled, indicating the collapse wasn’t recent. Peering around, he noticed that alongside it, off the shoulder of the road, old ruts formed a new path down the gradual slope to a small valley. He turned back, waving towards the vehicle, and Sam leaned out, shutting the drivers door before rolling the truck up to where her father clambered down the rubble.

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Mona craned her neck to see the scene in front of them while her canine companion sat up on his haunches, tense and alert. It was responding to Sam and Kyle’s activity and probably sensed the change in their mood. Biting back a multitude of questions, the physician didn’t want to distract Sam who was busy watching her father’s signals and responding with alacrity. Not knowing the dog's name, she mentally dubbed him Jasper. In her first encounter with him, he seemed more than just your friendly neighborhood mutt.

Itching to get out and help, her lack of survival skills frustrated Mona, knowing she would only just get in everyone’s way. Chalking the situation up as a learning experience, she knew exactly what to ask Kyle when the opportunity presented itself. Could he give her tips or training that might make a difference the next time such a moment occurred? Even Sam, as young as she was, could probably give some pointers. For now, she watched Kyle’s nimble navigation of the rubble, like a mountain goat skipping up a rocky embankment. She wasn’t so naïve as to think they were out of the woods just yet.

 

[Irish]

Kyle didn’t dawdle, making for their ride at a jog as Sam pulled up. Moving around to the side, he pulled open the passenger door and climbed into the seat, shutting it behind him. Gesturing with his free hand while the other held his weapon across his lap, he indicated the slope that appeared to have been used at least once before. “Take us down that incline,” he instructed. “Hug the left hand side and avoid the ruts, let the tires grab fresh ground and keep the engine revving high. Turn the wheel side by side if you feel it start to slip...”

Just as he said, Sam pulled forward, the wheels jolting slightly as they left the cracked asphalt and met soil. She rode the break to regulate their speed and keep them from careening down like a roller coaster. Kyle kept his eyes open and head on a swivel, checking all sides and even behind them as his daughter focused on the off road task. In the back seat, the Shepherd seemed to have a time keeping its balance as the new path caused the SUV to rock and sway. Eventually the path leveled out, and it began a shallow ascent back onto the highway. The ground was less soft than Kyle expected and Sam didn’t need to employ more aggressive driving practices to keep traction. As the reached the end of the uphill climb, the tires grabbed the hardtop and their ride soon smoothed out.

There was an air of relief, Kyle and Sam visibly relaxing as their ride returned to the pavement. Sam could pick up speed now, and just as she did, there was a dull and hollow thud. “Down!” Kyle instructed, turning half in his seat, his arm reaching back towards Mona, his hand catching her shoulder to push her down to the seat. The shepherd in the back sat up more despite Mona being pushed into him, letting out a single bark and growl, and Sam’s foot pressed the pedal into the floor. The engine revved higher as the truck sped forward, and Kyle brought his eyes to the road ahead of them, watchful for anyone who might be waiting for them on the road. He didn’t remove his hand from Mona until they had gone a good distance, the apparent ambush short lived and poorly executed. Sam didn’t slow until her father said so. “We should be clear...”

 

[BeBop Nomad]

Mona sat at the edge of her seat, body straining against the seatbelt. It was probably foolish thinking if she kept herself alert it would help the situation but what more could she do? Body swaying with the SUV’s erratic motion, the woman watched Sam’s steersmanship as she followed Kyle’s direction. Jasper seemed unphased by the vehicle’s dipping and jerking motion, his four legs readjusting to keep upright. About to exhale and relax as Kyle clamored back into his seat, Mona yelped involuntarily from the sudden dull hollow thud outside. The potential danger shot her heartbeat and blood pressure back up. She swore under her breath as a strong grip to the right shoulder shoved her into a crouching position, knees banging painfully against the stored gear, almost guaranteeing bruises later.

Jasper vocalized personal displeasure through a quick bark and deep threatening growls. Understanding what they were facing finally dawned on Mona. In a selfish attempt to see Angela, she foolishly put herself, Kyle, and Sam in unnecessary danger. It sounded like a good idea at the time and her sister did need medical support. But as the stark reality hit home, Mona felt exposed and ill equipped to handle the current predicament. If time could be turned back, she wanted all three of them back at Bartertown, going through a normal day with nary a care in the world. Could there have been another way to get aid to her sister? Maybe Angela could have made the journey with a trade convoy to the outpost. Large trade parties came through Bartertown often and probably had a higher probability of survival than the current band of three humans and one canine. Trying to break the tension, Mona joked, “Kyle, is it too late to turn around and go back?” She knew it was a fruitless question. They were already on their way and that he and Sam wouldn’t get paid unless the job was completed.