Chapter Sixteen
Despite what she’d been through, Chloe had begun to care about the stupid alien, worried how he would fare in the world-order reversal.
Rok had handed over his weapon, for god’s sake.
What kind of alien invader did that? He’d presented a hardened front when they’d first met, but the tough guy had crumbled like a cookie.
He’d shared the information that his parents had dismissed his brother as “soft.” If so, he and Grav must be two peas in a pod.
He lacked killer instinct.
A highway junction lay ahead. She braked and waited for him to catch up. “How are you doing? Do you need a rest?” She scanned his face.
“I’m fine. Do you need one?”
“I’m good if you’re good.” She offered a smile.
“I’m good.” A flicker of heat lit his gaze.
“Springfield is a fairly large sprawling city. Grav could be anywhere. I recommend we start the search in the city center, what we would call the downtown, but that’s a wild-ass guess on my part.
I’m not sure of the best way to get there either, whether we should continue north or head west. If we can find a local map, it will be a big help.
” Boy, she missed Google and the internet.
The green highway signs gave no clues as to the location of the downtown.
“Let’s go that way.” He pointed to the west.
“Any particular reason?”
“The ramp curves around and down. I’ll bet we could fly like the wind! It will be fun!” His eyes lit up.
“You want fun?”
“Yes. I would like to experience fun.”
The world had ended, and he sought fun? Insane.
Or perfectly sane. Why not play a little? Why not live instead of exist?
“Let’s do it. Let me get Kevin secured.” She dismounted, zipped him up in the carrier, then got back on the bike.
“You go first.” She envisioned him picking up speed and running into the dog trailer.
“Don’t let the bike get out of control. Use the brakes—but squeeze them gently.
You don’t want to fly over the handlebars or crash into anything. I don’t want to see you hurt.”
His gaze locked on hers. Her mouth went dry, and her stomach fluttered with something akin to…attraction. I can’t be attracted to a Progg! Even if the invasion is over. Even if he’s a good-guy exception, and I’m safe with him. Even if I trust him.
With a jolt, she realized she did trust him. Alien or not, he was a good person. Caleb, Sandy, and Zack were bad people. And they were human. Heated awareness crept up her neck into her face. She cleared her throat. “Well…go for it. I’ll, uh, be right behind you.”
“Okay!” He gripped the handlebars.
“Watch for stalled cars! Wait for me when it levels out.”
“Got it!” He pushed off and pedaled fast up the ramp.
She let him get ahead by about a hundred feet. “Hang on, Kevin.” She glanced at the dog and then pushed off.
The highway ramp descended, and Rok picked up speed, going faster and faster, and then he lifted his feet and let kinetic energy carry him away. Rich, throaty, unrestrained laughter rang out. He shouted in his language, which she surmised translated to, “Wheee!”
She pumped hard. As her bike crested the hill, descended, and picked up speed, she stopped pedaling, too, and let gravity do its thing.
She was laughing by the time she coasted to a stop.
There were many hilly country roads in the Ozarks that would be a thrill to ride on a bicycle.
Maybe one day, they could pack a vegan lunch and go for a ride and a picnic…
Didn’t that sound like a date, like she intended to stay with him for a while.
After she unzipped the carrier top so Kevin could see out better, they started off again. “It’s getting late; let’s head into the city, scout around a bit, and find a place to stay.”
Hotels were no longer an option, as she’d discovered previously. Rooms had fail-secure locks; when the power went out, the doors locked. A battery backup allowed guests to enter their rooms—but batteries had died.
Homes offered the best option—the trick was to find one unlocked.
This highway wasn’t too congested, so they rode side by side in the fast lane.
“I suggest we park ourselves at a suitable house, use it as a base of operations, and branch out from there, head in a different direction every day. Scout for a few days then move on to a different section of the city. Grav left a message—maybe we should, too. Let him know we’re looking for him.”
“Good idea.” He paused. “Do you really think we’ll find him?”
“We’ve had some good luck—maybe it will hold out.
” They were looking for a needle in a haystack, but she hated to dash his hopes, especially when the day was going so well.
“I’ll try to find a city map, and we can go to key public buildings and landmarks.
” Searching with a destination seemed more logical than wandering aimlessly.
“I don’t think Grav would know what those are. I wouldn’t.” He veered out of the fast lane into the middle to avoid a smash-up.
She followed him over. “He left a message on a school. I’m hoping we’ll find another message on another public place. By himself, he may not recognize a public building, but if he’s with a human, he would know.”
A van had rear-ended a bus, and both sprawled across the middle lane, so they moved right. An overhead sign announced an upcoming exit to National Avenue. That sounds like an important street. “Let’s get off here.”
She based her strategy on what she would do.
If she desired to attract attention, she’d go to the most open, public space she could find.
It was why she’d left the rural areas and ventured into the cities.
Grav wouldn’t recognize city hall from McDonald’s, but she assumed he was with a human who could direct him.
I’m making a lot of assumptions. She counted on being able to find the key locales. Unfortunately, she’d never been to Springfield, paper maps were few and far between, and phone books didn’t exist. Maybe a library would have a map?
I need a map to find the library.
They took the National ramp, and she mentally flipped a coin and veered to the right, which put them in front of a cancer treatment center. “Let’s ride up the street for a few blocks, see what we see.”
At the corner, a skybridge crossed over National, connecting the hospital on the left with the heart center on the right. A huge banner hung from the bridge. Her pulse raced as she picked out words.
“Look!” Rok said.
“I see it!”
They pedaled fast, braking to a stop just below the bridge. She recognized Progg symbols—and English.
“My name is Laurel Knight. I’m from Big Creek, Missouri. I am with a FRIENDLY Progg named Grav. We hold survivor meetings at 5 p.m. every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at the Gillioz.”
When was it written? Days ago? Weeks? Months? She wished the woman had dated her message—but then again, she’d lost track of the date, anyway. Time had ceased to matter—until now. The sun’s position suggested it was five o’clock-ish? Six, maybe?
“It says your brother is here…” she said hesitantly.
“Yes. He left another message.”
“What did he say?”
“He reiterated the invasion is over. There will be no rescue. Aggressions are to cease immediately. He says he has a human woman with him, and they are holding meetings. Then there’s a word in your language I have no translation for.”
“Gillioz,” she said.
“What is a Gillioz?”
“We’ll find out.” Why didn’t the woman give an address!
On the other hand, until she got a map, an address wouldn’t help much.
Where the heck am I going to find a map?
She’d gotten lucky at the gas station on the interstate and at the Big Creek Chamber of Commerce, but it would be harder here. Another needle in a haystack.
“Kevin needs a pee break.” She pointed to a grassy area on the hospital side.
They rode their bikes over, dismounted, and she let the dog out. He ran around sniffing for the right spot. Chloe stretched, her gaze skimming over the automobiles in the parking lot.
“Cars!” she practically yelled.
“Cars are everywhere,” he replied.
“Cars might have maps! Keep an eye on Kevin.” She darted to a nearby row and tried the door of a Mercedes SUV—locked tight.
Same for the Jeep, the Ford, and the Lexus.
An out-of-state Buick beater was unlocked, but there was nothing inside but fast-food wrappers, soda cans, and other trash.
Loose coins rattled as she slammed the door.
Her grandma used to deposit her change in the arm well of the door, too. It was a senior thing. I need old-people vehicles. They’re the ones who would have maps! Everybody else had used their phone for navigation.
She scanned the lot. There! Handicapped parking. She ran to the vehicles in the spaces marked by blue-and-white signs. She yanked on the door of a van. Locked. A humungous tanklike Lincoln—locked. Damn security-conscious drivers! A little Honda SUV was unlocked—but had no maps.
Next to it sat a Chevy Suburban—and there on the passenger seat—a map of Springfield.
Of course, the vehicle was secured tighter than Fort Knox. “Dammit!” She pounded on the driver’s side window in frustration.
Eee-yoooo-eee-yoooo! Honk! Honk! Honk! Eee-yoooo-eee-yoooo! The car anti-theft alarm wailed.
Rok ran over, Kevin at his heels. “Are you all right? What’s that noise?”
Eee-yoooo-eee-yoooo! Honk! Honk! Honk! Headlights flashed.
“The car alarm,” she yelled.
Eee-yoooo-eee-yoooo! Honk! Honk! Honk!
“Can you shut it off?” He winced.
“Not without a key. Ignore it. Everybody does.” Probably not anymore, though! If anyone heard an alarm, he’d come running. She looked around expectantly. Nobody. If a car alarm goes off and there’s nobody to hear it, is the alarm really going off?
Eee-yoooo-eee-yoooo! Honk! Honk! Honk!
Yes.