Charges (26 page)

“So there hasn’t been any official word from the government?” Vincenzo asked.

“Sure there has, the same prerecorded bullshit message that’s been playing every hour on the hour over the emergency broadcast system, most of which went down for the count, too,” Lonnie said. “The president says the government is activating all federal resources and that citizens should contact their local governments for up-to-date location of FEMA assistance centers, stuff like that.”

“And this Army base, Fort Indiantown Gap, has something like that going on?” Vincenzo asked.

Guardino nodded as he chewed a mouthful of lasagna. “Yeah, and it’s right off the highway. Easy to get to, but it’s got to be a popular place by now.”

Vincenzo tried to recall his route. He knew there were stretches where he’d have to mount the interstates, and he thought that Indiantown Gap on the way. If he was right, then he wouldn’t have to deviate from his path to stop by and check things out. “What about these highwaymen you guys mentioned?”

“More speculation than anything else right now,” Lonnie said. “We heard it from the cops, who heard it from the staties. Most of the info is second- or thirdhand, but it’s probably not entirely unreliable, if you get what I mean.”

“I do.”

Guardino sipped some tea and looked across the table at Vincenzo. “You armed, Tony?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Because you just can’t be too prepared these days. Even an old lady could gun down a young buck if the opportunity was there and the payoff was right. Keep that in the back of your mind. Don’t trust anyone.”

“I don’t,” Vincenzo said. He smiled. “But I trust you guys.”

The firemen laughed.

###

Vincenzo’s quarters for the night were in a fire department pickup truck that wouldn’t start. He spread his sleeping bag out in the truck’s bed after brushing his teeth in the pale glow of secondary lights powered by the generator. The three-bay garage was tepidly illuminated as well, but there was more than enough light to see by, and he got himself squared away quickly. Guardino had told him that the generator would be powered down by ten o’clock and wouldn’t come on again until eight the next morning. The guys would leave before then, and if Vincenzo wanted to take another shower, he was out of luck.

It was humid and a bit stuffy in the garage, but he didn’t mind. No one was going to be able to break through the metal doors without him knowing it, and the firehouse seemed quite secure compared to camping outdoors. If sleeping in the truck was roughing it, then he could do it all week long.

He ensured his pack and pistol were close at hand then stripped down to his underwear. He was asleep within three minutes.

19

“Up and at ’em, Sleeping Beauty.”
 

Vincenzo automatically reached for the Beretta. He raised his head above the truck’s side and saw the fire station captain stepping back, hands held in the air.

“Whoa there, Hoss. I come in peace,” Guardino said.

Vincenzo relaxed. “Sorry. I was in a really deep sleep. What time is it?”

“Five thirty. We’re making some breakfast on the Coleman stove. Pre-mixed pancakes and some bacon, if there’s any left. You in?”

Vincenzo nodded. “I’m in.”

“All right. Change out of your Underoos and get packed up. We’ll be rolling out of here at six thirty.” With that, the captain turned and walked back into the lounge.

Vincenzo pulled his clothes on and checked his hiking pack. It hadn’t been tampered with during the night, but he hadn’t expected that it would have been. He slid the Beretta back into its holster and tucked it under his T-shirt after rolling up his sleeping bag and stowing it. Finally, he slipped on his boots and laced them up. Popping his cap onto his head, Vincenzo was ready to take another few steps toward California.

Breakfast was rudimentary but still light years ahead of what he usually had. Hot pancakes, margarine, maple syrup, and coffee—lots and lots of coffee. Vincenzo felt as if he were eating the firemen out of house and home and all because he’d won Guardino’s favor by promising to attempt to contact his daughter. He hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. Everyone in the firehouse hoped that some remarkable recoveries would be made in the short term and the gulfs between families could be sewn shut, or at least reduced. Vincenzo doubted that was in the cards, but he wouldn’t be bitter if it actually came to pass.

“All right, let’s get moving,” Guardino said after breakfast. “I have a meeting at a fire station in the sixth ward, and I’m supposed to pick up a few cases of MREs that are being transferred to us.”

“Ready when you are,” Vincenzo said, getting up to follow him out.

Guardino and Vincenzo mounted the ATV while another fireman pulled on a chain that raised one of the garage bay doors. It looked as though the day was going to be bright and sunny, which caused Vincenzo to groan inwardly. Sunlight meant heat, which would be accompanied by humidity.

Guardino drove the ATV like a kid riding an Enduro dirt bike, whipping through the streets at a high rate of speed. The wind blast almost ripped the cap right off Vincenzo’s head, but he managed to grab it before it flew away. He was glad he’d lashed his hiking pack and walking stick to the ATV’s bed with bungee cords.

“Hey, where’s the fire, Captain?” he asked.

“Fire, my ass. You realize how many people would want to steal this thing?” Guardino said. “You think Allentown is full of God-fearing Amish and people who stand around farting potpourri? We’re in crime central, and it doesn’t get any better once we cross over into the next ward.”

“You’ve had trouble before? Someone try to jack your ATV?”

“Not yet, but I’ve seen the looks,” Guardino said. “Summer’s just starting, and when things get really hot and there’s no relief in sight, people are going to get stir crazy.”

“Now you tell me!”

Guardino laughed. “You’ll be long gone before things go all the way to hell, Tony. The rest of us ain’t so lucky.”

“You going to stick it out?”

“I’ll be the last man standing,” Guardino said. “Got nothing else to do, nowhere else to go.”

“Keep the ATV. It might come in handy.”

“Already on my mind, pal. Already on my mind.”

They raced across a bridge over the Lehigh River, and on the other side, the terrain became decidedly more urban. To their left was what looked like a garbage dump, and it certainly smelled like one. Tractors were already at work, piling the mountains of trash higher and deeper. Farther on, there was a factory of some sort. The sign indicated it was a structural steel company. A billboard proclaimed that tonight’s Cash 5 jackpot was nothing—the sign was electronic, and with no power, there was no award amount available.

Guardino saw Vincenzo looking at it and snorted. “With my luck, I probably have the winning ticket in my pocket,” he said. “Well, at least I’ll have something to light a fire with when the weather turns cold.”

They ripped through the streets, maneuvering around stalled cars and clumps of garbage bags or people standing around and watching the ATV. The little vehicle’s engine noise certainly attracted a lot of attention, and Vincenzo could see why Guardino was nervous. It wouldn’t take a lot for someone to try to jack him over, though during one banking turn, something shifted beneath Vincenzo’s feet. He looked down and saw a black composite stock sticking out from under the seat. Guardino had brought the shotgun he hadn’t wanted to admit to last night.

“Hey, you never know when some twelve gauge might come in handy,” the fireman said.

“Damn straight.”

The trip ended when Guardino pulled into the driveway of another fire station. The building had apparently been under construction when the event hit, for one third of the driveway was missing with only flattened earth and sand inside a boxed frame. Three firemen stepped out of the station as soon as the ATV came to a halt.

Guardino cut the engine and set the parking brake. “Okay, end of the line for me. You know where you are? The road we took is Route 1022. You said that’s the road you were planning on traveling down, right?”

“That’s it. How far are we from your station?”

“About five miles.” Guardino pointed down the street. “You’ll be going right through the middle of Allentown. Not all of it’s going to be pretty. We have a fairly high population of poor here, lots of Latinos, lots of blacks. A bunch of them have a gang mentality about them. You any good with your gun?”

“I’m not Dirty Harry, but I know how to use it.”

“Don’t be afraid to if you have to. Blast the living shit out of anyone who gets in your way. Anyway, about ten miles out, you’ll come across the interchange with Interstate 78. You’ll be pretty far outside the city by then, out where the farm lands start. The Gap is right off 78, maybe two days out. You make it there, check in with the Guard and see what’s going on. Mention us over here in Allentown. We could use a security presence, not to mention ten of everything else they might have.”

“You think the highway’s safe?”

Guardino snorted as the three firemen walked over to the ATV. “Tony, you make it through Allentown, you’ll be able to take on anything you might find on the interstate. Trust me.”

“Hey, who’s this?” one of the newcomers asked, looking at Vincenzo with concerned eyes.

“Just a pal who I gave a lift,” Guardino said. “Don’t worry about him. He’s hoofing it from here. You got my daughter’s address, Tony?”

Vincenzo patted his shirt pocket. “Right here, Captain. Don’t worry about that. If I make it, I’ll look her up for you.”

“Good man.” Guardino extended his hand, and Vincenzo shook it. “Thanks for the help. I appreciate it. My wife would say the same, but she’s at her mother’s house in Bethlehem with her sister and her kids. Maybe one day you can meet her. She makes a mean Hungarian goulash.”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Vincenzo said. He dismounted and nodded to the three firemen standing as he reached back for his walking stick. “You guys all stay safe.”

“Same to you, Tony. Same to you,” Guardino said.

###

The trip through Allentown wasn’t as bad as Guardino had warned it might be. The city wasn’t in great shape, and there were definite signs of looting—every liquor store had been broken into, save for those with barred windows and doors—but those were mostly islands of distress on an otherwise unremarkable sea. For the most part, the people of Allentown seemed to be holding things together... at least during the day. The criminals, predators, and lowlifes would hold reign during the dark hours, when they could pretty much do as they pleased.

As Vincenzo walked through town, people tried to delay him, asking him questions about where he’d been, where he was going, and what life was like outside of Allentown. He answered on the move, never stopping. He always carried the walking stick in his left hand, his right never far from the pistol concealed beneath his T-shirt. The day was hot and humid, and the urban landscape offered little in the way of shade. Whenever possible, he would seek a few minutes of rest beneath the canopy of a tree or in the shadow of a building. He would drink then relieve himself as far out of sight of others as he could. He had one particularly frightening moment when he was peeing behind a fetid dumpster in an alley only to find a homeless man was watching him from amidst the stinking garbage pile.

“Stay safe,” the man said. “Lie down in garbage.”

Vincenzo finished pissing, zipped up, and got the hell out of there.

He walked past a Chevrolet dealership that had suffered at the hands of vandals. Most of the cars and trucks in the lot had been defaced or damage, tires slashed, windshields shattered. A Walgreens drug store across the street had been looted, all its windows gone, the glass lying in the parking lot like a scattering of diamonds glistening in the sunlight. Farther down the street was a bicycle shop, and Vincenzo paused to look inside. The windows were gone there as well, and the interior smelled like urine and feces. There were bike parts but no bikes.

A few miles down, the urban features began to erode, replaced by more suburban attributes: low-lying office buildings, individual shops instead of strip malls, apartment buildings, and row houses. Trees lined the street, and shade was suddenly plentiful beneath their widespread canopies of leaves. There were fewer abandoned cars in the middle of the street, but each street corner had garbage bags stacked ten high. Flies buzzed about, and Vincenzo detected the rank odor of untreated sewage. He wondered about infection.

Children still played in the street, though they looked dirty and a bit worse for wear. Parents and other residents sat in tight groups on lawns. No one interacted with him other than to say hello, including the children. That suited him just fine. Vincenzo acknowledged the greetings.

The neighborhood changed again, transitioning from apartments and row houses to more stately two-story brick and wood homes. Lawns were turning brown or being slowly overrun by weeds. Some homeowners were actively fighting it, kneeling in the afternoon sun to pull weeds. One enterprising individual was actually digging up his lawn in preparation for planting crops.

The gray-haired man noticed Vincenzo and stood up. He wore a large pistol in a holster on his hip. “Excuse me. Have you heard anything about Atlanta? Any news from there at all?”

Vincenzo shook his head. “No, afraid not. I’m coming from New York.”

The man’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you.” With that, he turned back to his work.

The houses became larger, and fewer people were evident. The stink of piling garbage and human waste became less omnipresent. Every now and then, a field or vacant lot would appear. Some had evidence that they’d been used as camping grounds, while others seemed pristine and untouched. Vincenzo stopped beneath a tree and sucked cold water from his Hydro Flask. He’d refrigerated some of his water at the firehouse, and it was still cold in the high-tech vessel. The travel cooler the Ackermans had given him was full of ice, which kept a couple of bottles of water and some perishable food cool. It wouldn’t last for long, but it was probably enough to get him to Fort Indiantown Gap.

He walked past a strip mall with a Ruby Tuesday and a Five Guys burger shop. There was some activity in the parking lot, what seemed to be citizens and some uniformed police overseeing another trading bazaar. Vincenzo inspected it from the road, trying to determine if it was worth his time to stop and take a look.
Why, you got something to trade?
He walked past the activity without stopping.