Solace & Taproots

3.14

Ronnie was pretty convinced that observations of their imminent departure would probably relieve pressure on Broadway — a view Seb supported over the radio from behind them. Meanwhile, Sam was talking on a separate channel with the convoy's most skilled comms specialist, something about monitoring for any kind of location beacon or even audio bug broadcasting from any of the "liberated" vehicles.

The fog had gotten heavier again, and after Ronnie had done a quick swivel and tilt test on the roof turret and inspected the .50 cal thoroughly, she retreated back inside the cabin. She'd left the hatch loosely closed but unlatched as they tooled along just behind the convoy's midpoint. Fairbanks wasn't messing around though, he had armed and armored outriders on parallel streets, and vehicles that posted up at the sides when they crossed very wide intersections. With their vehicles' mounted weapons, the ladies and their companion vehicle astern periodically took a turn in these rotations, depending where everyone was in relation to the more vulnerable vehicles like the big cargo trucks or casualty transportation.

This made for a bunch of leapfrogging forward and dropping back again, which was turning out to be great fuel-subsidized wheel time for Rebecca in the heavy vehicle. It would never feel like her little CUV, but it was one of those vehicles that simply didn't care about trivialities like terrain and would just go wherever she pointed it. She couldn't deny Sam's accusation that she was enjoying rumbling past the trundling convoy on the 'wrong' side of the street, or hopping the sidewalk or center curbs to circumnavigate an abandoned vehicle... or even simply making careful contact with an obstructing vehicle and then bullying it out of the way. She didn't THINK Ronnie did any stomping on an imaginary brake pedal in the front passenger's footwell like her mom had — she was even still using her turn signals!

It was mid to late afternoon when they got into the familiar neighborhood. Sam noticed Rebecca's gloves creaking on the steering wheel as she loosened and tightened her grip around it with apprehension, and leaned forward to squeeze her shoulder again. "I think this'll be really good, hon. I promise. We're with you, and even your ghosts are loving ones."

Rebecca reached back to put her hand on Sam's for a moment, then switched to thump the back of it against Ronnie's fist where she'd held it up, also offering supportive words. "You're stronger than you think, cookie. Just 'cause you feel intensely and have a big heart doesn't mean you don't have resilience. Might give you more, even."

Sam, from the back: "That's right! Listen to her, Allie and Leonard sound great. And hey, no Peter."

Ronnie, ever eloquent, put words to what they were probably all thinking. "Hell yeah. Fuck him."

Rebecca glanced back at Sam in the mirror, and Rufus, and then at Ronnie to her side. "I love my girls. And my dog." Now that she thought about it, Rufus was going to lose his mind with all the new exciting people and places, now that he'd gotten more confident. Maybe the kid up on five would take a liking to him too... that would be really cute.

The light had faded a little more under the fog, but the headlamps stabbing out into the mist were still more navigation and visibility aids than primary illumination when they nosed down the ramp descending to the blocks-wide construction site. The mist wasn't as thoroughly shrouding down there, so she could see some signs of development — a few new planter boxes, piles of scrap material like mixed lumber, port-a-potty shells, those wavy corrugated plastic or metal roof panels. It looked like some of those were actually being assembled into rough shelters to store more of the same. There were also a couple of "new"... well, unfamiliar to Rebecca, vehicles. One truck (not Leonard's) still loaded with tarp-covered soil that brought her a quick pang of passing grief, a midsized sedan with a flat tire, a mall security golf cart, and a few pushcarts and wheelbarrows attached to the same chain securing three prefab plastic garden toolsheds. Rebecca realized that it felt really good to see all these signs of vitality. She'd been a little worried about what kind of shape she'd find them in.