truck plunged off the highway then bounced
over the rough ground on the way down a gentle slope of tall grass
and shrubs. The truck then crushed down a second fence, scattered a
row of blue portable plastic toilets, and then emerged into the
gravel yard of an industrial area beside an enormous
river.
Gargantuan conveyor
machines leaned out over the river like rusty staircases. They had
already been antique curiosities when men still ruled the world. In
their day, they had loaded sand and gravel onto river barges as
attested by the sagged mountains of crushed rock that still
slouched around the yard. Three dilapidated river barges rested
jammed together on the shore where a river flood had marooned
them.
Critias lowered his window
to listen through the bars. He heard the howls of infected that had
seen them pull off the highway and still tracked after the truck.
Critias evaluated, “If we get in a battle here, things are going to
turn for the worse.”
Carmen agreed with that
assessment, “And I don’t see any boats either. How likely do you
think it is that the annual river flooding has left any serviceable
watercraft at all?” She already knew it was unlikely enough to be
unworthy of a search.
The piles of gravel gave
Critias an idea for a temporary respite, “Drive back in there to
keep us out of sight while we try to figure out what to do next.”
The open space at the center of a trio of mounds was large enough
to conceal their truck so Carmen pulled in there then turned off
the engine to cut down on noise.
Critias felt they were safe
for the moment just not forever, “How long do you think we
have?”
“ Not long,” she estimated.
“I believe we have a high probability of driving out of here to
reach safety somewhere else should the infected attack, so the
danger is minimal.”
He pointed at a device that
hung under the dashboard of the truck, “What is this thing?”
Imbedded in the fascia was another similar device only smaller than
the first, “Or this?”
Carmen switched on the
stereo receiver to make low volume static come out of the speakers
then she explained, “This received radio wave broadcasts when they
still existed.” She pressed each of the preset channels, but all of
them were the same dead air. “It played music and news on different
frequencies. This other device is a citizens’ band short-range
radio transmitter. None of these instruments is compatible with our
longitudinal wave communications. I have only a basic understanding
of this outdated equipment. We stopped using this primitive form of
broadcasting almost two hundred years ago.”
He still thought that it
seemed promising, “Even if we don’t use it, do you think that King
Louie would be using transmitters like that one?”
“ Probably,” she guessed as
she handed him the microphone. “This is only slightly more advanced
than sending smoke signals, but it is still better than nothing.
You hold that button down when you want to transmit.” Carmen turned
on the device. The channel it was already on produced the same dead
air as did the stereo, but she adjusted another dial to squelch the
static.
Critias tried the
transmitter’s channels one after another; with each try, he
transmitted the message, “Come in, King Louie.”
Carmen whispered an alarm,
“Be perfectly still and don’t make a sound.”
A naked young woman that
was filthy with dirt crept toward their truck from the front. She
appeared nearly normal for a human as ghouls tended to do when not
otherwise deformed from oddly regenerated injuries or in their
ferocious agitated states. Her ghoul senses detected potential prey
was nearby, but she had yet to realize where they were since an
android and a mechsuited man who rested motionless didn’t trigger
an outburst of explosive aggression. The hot truck engine popped as
the metal cooled and that sound drew the thing in closer until the
ghoul approached Carmen’s window where it sniffed before it
over the rough ground on the way down a gentle slope of tall grass
and shrubs. The truck then crushed down a second fence, scattered a
row of blue portable plastic toilets, and then emerged into the
gravel yard of an industrial area beside an enormous
river.
Gargantuan conveyor
machines leaned out over the river like rusty staircases. They had
already been antique curiosities when men still ruled the world. In
their day, they had loaded sand and gravel onto river barges as
attested by the sagged mountains of crushed rock that still
slouched around the yard. Three dilapidated river barges rested
jammed together on the shore where a river flood had marooned
them.
Critias lowered his window
to listen through the bars. He heard the howls of infected that had
seen them pull off the highway and still tracked after the truck.
Critias evaluated, “If we get in a battle here, things are going to
turn for the worse.”
Carmen agreed with that
assessment, “And I don’t see any boats either. How likely do you
think it is that the annual river flooding has left any serviceable
watercraft at all?” She already knew it was unlikely enough to be
unworthy of a search.
The piles of gravel gave
Critias an idea for a temporary respite, “Drive back in there to
keep us out of sight while we try to figure out what to do next.”
The open space at the center of a trio of mounds was large enough
to conceal their truck so Carmen pulled in there then turned off
the engine to cut down on noise.
Critias felt they were safe
for the moment just not forever, “How long do you think we
have?”
“ Not long,” she estimated.
“I believe we have a high probability of driving out of here to
reach safety somewhere else should the infected attack, so the
danger is minimal.”
He pointed at a device that
hung under the dashboard of the truck, “What is this thing?”
Imbedded in the fascia was another similar device only smaller than
the first, “Or this?”
Carmen switched on the
stereo receiver to make low volume static come out of the speakers
then she explained, “This received radio wave broadcasts when they
still existed.” She pressed each of the preset channels, but all of
them were the same dead air. “It played music and news on different
frequencies. This other device is a citizens’ band short-range
radio transmitter. None of these instruments is compatible with our
longitudinal wave communications. I have only a basic understanding
of this outdated equipment. We stopped using this primitive form of
broadcasting almost two hundred years ago.”
He still thought that it
seemed promising, “Even if we don’t use it, do you think that King
Louie would be using transmitters like that one?”
“ Probably,” she guessed as
she handed him the microphone. “This is only slightly more advanced
than sending smoke signals, but it is still better than nothing.
You hold that button down when you want to transmit.” Carmen turned
on the device. The channel it was already on produced the same dead
air as did the stereo, but she adjusted another dial to squelch the
static.
Critias tried the
transmitter’s channels one after another; with each try, he
transmitted the message, “Come in, King Louie.”
Carmen whispered an alarm,
“Be perfectly still and don’t make a sound.”
A naked young woman that
was filthy with dirt crept toward their truck from the front. She
appeared nearly normal for a human as ghouls tended to do when not
otherwise deformed from oddly regenerated injuries or in their
ferocious agitated states. Her ghoul senses detected potential prey
was nearby, but she had yet to realize where they were since an
android and a mechsuited man who rested motionless didn’t trigger
an outburst of explosive aggression. The hot truck engine popped as
the metal cooled and that sound drew the thing in closer until the
ghoul approached Carmen’s window where it sniffed before it
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