The Passage - By Justin Cronin Page 0,290

It tasted a little like shine and felt the same, and before long everyone was laughing and singing, which felt wonderful but was a little sad too, because we were all remembering Arlo and his guitar. Even Amy drank some, and Hollis said, Maybe it will put her in the mood to say something, and at that she smiled, the first time I think I’ve ever seen her do this. It really feels like she’s one of us now.

It’s late now, and I have to go to bed. We’re setting out at first light. I can’t wait to leave, but I think I will miss this place, too. None of us knows what we’ll find or if we’ll ever see home again. I think without our realizing it, we’ve become a family here. So, to whoever is reading this, that’s really all I have to say.

Day 18

We made it to Kelso in plenty of time. The landscape we’re in seems totally dead—the only living creatures seem to be lizards, which are everywhere, and spiders, huge hairy ones the size of your hand. No other buildings besides the depot. After the bunker, it feels like we’re out in the open, totally exposed, even though the windows and doors are all boarded up. There’s a pump but no water, so we are running on what we brought. If it stays this hot we better find more soon. I can tell no one’s going to sleep much. I hope Amy can keep them away, like Peter says.

Day 19

They came last night, a pod of three. They entered through the roof, tearing the wood apart like paper. When it was over, two of them were dead and the third had scattered. But Hollis had been shot. Alicia says she thinks she did it, but Hollis said he actually shot himself, trying to load one of the pistols. Probably he was just saying that to make her feel better. The bullet passed through his upper arm, just a nick really, but any wound is serious, especially out here. Hollis is too tough to show it, but I can tell he’s in a lot of pain.

I’m writing this in the early-morning hours, just before dawn. Nobody’s going back to sleep. We’re all just waiting for sunrise so we can get out of here. Our best chance is to make it to Las Vegas with enough time to find shelter for the night. What everybody’s thinking, but not saying, is that there’s no real safety from here on out.

The funny thing is, I don’t mind so much, not really. I hope we don’t all die out here, of course. But I think I’d rather be here than anywhere else, with these people. It’s different being afraid when there’s the hope that it will amount to something. I don’t know what we’ll find in Colorado, if we ever get there. I’m not even sure it matters. All those years, waiting for the Army, and it turns out the Army is us.

FORTY-FIVE

They drove in from the south, into the fading day, into a vision of towering ruins.

Peter was at the wheel of the first Humvee, Alicia up top, scanning the terrain with the binoculars; Caleb sat beside him in the passenger seat with the map over his lap. The highway had all but disappeared, its course vanished under waves of cracked, pale earth.

“Caleb, where the hell are we?”

Caleb was twisting the map this way and that. He arched his neck and shouted up to Alicia, “Do you see the 215?”

“What’s the 215?”

“Another highway, like this one! We should be crossing it!”

“I didn’t know we were even on a highway!”

Peter brought the vehicle to a halt and picked up the radio from the floor. “Sara, what’s your fuel gauge say?”

A crackle of static, and then Sara’s voice came through: “A quarter tank. Maybe a little more.”

“Let me talk to Hollis.”

He watched in the rearview as Hollis, his injured arm wrapped in a sling, scrambled down from the gun post and took the radio from Sara. “I think we may have lost the road,” Peter told him. “We both need fuel, too.”

“Is there an airport anywhere?”

Peter took the map from Caleb to examine it. “Yes. If we’re still following Highway 15, it should be ahead of us, to the east.” He shouted up to Alicia: “Do you see anything that looks like an airport?”

“How the hell should I know what an airport looks like?”

Through the radio, Hollis said, “Tell her to