Chapter 16 - Part I

                                    

                                          

                          
PART II
                          
You Can Sleep While I Drive
                          

                          

                          
MANNIE REPLACED THE HANDSET IN its cradle. His heart was higher than he ever remembered. Even higher than the day she had been born. He jumped out of his chair, opened the front door and hollered out into the starry Texas night, “My daughter’s alive!”
                          
He pulled out the old road maps from the glove box of his truck and carried them into the kitchen table. Mannie needed Rubi, the Jeep Rubicon he drove for his work with the Forest Service. He trusted her in any conditions. And if he headed to Salt Lake City, there’d be a variety of conditions. He would have to go back to the Ranger Station.
                          
His zombified existence since Isabel died, eating, sleeping and reading, was over. She’d been dead for less than a month, but it seemed like half a lifetime already. Now Mannie was awake again. And ready to go.
                          
He spread out the maps. The Internet had been down for weeks in Del Rio, so he would have to rely on the paper version. He realized he was lucky his cell phone still worked. What if I had missed her call?
                          
Rubi had GPS, but it was fritzy. It hadn’t taken to the automatic updates for a year and sometimes went dead. The route to Salt Lake wasn’t complicated: head northwest and drive. First he needed to get to San Angelo, three hours from Del Rio, to pick up Lizzie’s friend, Jess. It was a university town and a military intelligence training center during the Gulf Wars. Mannie had never been there, but figured it wouldn’t add much time to the trip. And it would make Lizzie happy.
                          
After San Angelo it was I-87 through Big Spring and up to Brownfield, across to Roswell, then Albuquerque. He wondered how many of Albuquerque’s million people were left.
                          
Near Durango there might be snow. Mannie had been up in those mountains before. Might get tricky. He should hit the road tomorrow to get through the pass before weather got worse.
                          
Elizabeth hadn’t sent her friend Jess’ number yet. He needed to make sure she was in San Angelo, not just somewhere near. Why had he agreed to let her come south? And that he’d go pick up her friend? Guilt. And a genuine desire. He wanted to try to help her be happy.
                          
His stomach growled. He often skipped dinner with no one else around and now it was time to hit the sack, a long day, but worth staying up for.
                          
Mannie found a can of baked beans in the fridge, though he didn’t remember when he’d opened it. No mold and it didn’t smell. Mannie heated it in a pan on the gas range. The can said, “Best if used by 2023.” He suspected it should be edible for some time after that. He smiled, yesterday he wasn’t thinking about the future.
                          
He felt like celebrating. He eyed the box high on a shelf, tucked away for a rainy day. It wasn't good to keep a bottle of whiskey around when you were a recovering alcoholic. It was damn tempting every day, especially on a day like today when he had something to celebrate. Part of him kept it because it was old and expensive and he couldn't stand to waste it. Another part of him kept it to challenge himself. I dare you to drink it, you worthless shit, he would think whenever he caught himself looking at it. Go on. Show everyone what a loser you really are. It was a way to keep himself honest. If he wasn't strong enough to say no....” He stood on a chair and lifted the box down.
                          
The antiqued wooden box had been a gift from an old friend. “Keep something good in it, that’s all I ask.” Well, this was good. He opened the clasp and withdrew the russet golden bottle and set it back up on the shelf. He would put something else ‘good’in it when he packed. He popped the top on a cold Coke, enjoying the fizz and then first taste as it burned his throat.
                          
Mannie dumped his dresser drawers out on the bed and packed the essentials, planning for cold weather. Living in Texas, he didn’t have a lot of cold weather gear. Maybe he’d do some shopping once he reached Albuquerque.
                          
Isabel’s photo stared at him from the dresser. He counted on her for stability, her love had seen him through some desperate times. He should have married her like she wanted, but now she was gone.
                          
The past was dead now. No need to keep souvenirs, but he grabbed it anyway and stuffed it in his rucksack with the clothes. In the years since he’d left Washington State, he’d learned to travel light and leave things behind.
                          
He set his bags by the door and went for a walk outside to clear his head. The night was crystal clear and shirt-sleeve weather. He focused on the first star that caught his eye. “Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.” It was a silly children’s rhyme, but it was one of the things he remembered doing with Elizabeth as a child. He sometimes thought about her looking at the same sky—doubly foolish since Bellingham was two hours behind him and under a thick blanket of clouds most of the time.
                          
Mannie scanned the sky. He had seen no airplanes for the last month, but he spotted a satellite. At least those would keep going for a while, maybe longer than the cell towers. But how much good would it do the survivors, and how long could satellites last without humans operating them? More importantly, who was in control of those satellites now? Or military facilities or missile silos? Before he knew his daughter was out there he had been content to let the world go to Hell. Now he couldn’t.