A Hard Rain: Book Two Of The Shift Trilogy

Chapter 4

en route to Rochelle, Virginia

December 2012

"I am...I said

To no one there

And no one heard at all

Not even the chair."

The armored school busses plodded along the slowly disintegrating roadway of Highway 29 as the Vicious Rabbits belted out Neil Diamond. The radio signal, emanating from a broadcast station in Culpeper, came in surprisingly strong today. The Shift had a way of scrambling the ionosphere, choking the airwaves with static, making radio communication touch and go. It didn't stop communities like Culpeper and Rochelle from transmitting. Within fifteen miles of a radio tower, the signal sounded like FM stations of yore. The mood on the bus was celebratory, not only because it was a sing along kind of song, but also because the clear signal indicated that the company was getting close to the wire, which meant that they would be inside the settled lands of Culpeper within minutes. Then they could take off their MOLLE gear and relax for the rest of the drive back home.

The forty-mile drive from Manassas to Culpeper took a few hours, about as long as the bike ride from their sleepover in Occoquan Estates to the staging area in Manassas where the busses waited for them.

The loosely welded armor slapped against the hull of the bus and rattled loudly whenever it hit a pot hole. It wasn't his best work, Chris thought with mild embarrassment. The armoring on this bus had been done before his shop learned how to armor vehicles properly. Each of the busses was painted with the flag of Rochelle, a grey silhouette of a rabbit's head complete with ears and deadly fangs over two crossed battle axes atop a burnt orange field. The busses groaned and coughed out noxious fumes as they chugged along. The engines would soon keel over and have to be replaced as a result of the caustic fuel they consumed and the thousands of pounds of armor they bore. They weren't a comfortable ride and they topped out at 30 miles per hour on level road. In fact, these things were worse than driving a Saturn, but at least they were operational.

"I am, I cried.

I am, said I.

And I am lost

and I can't even say why,"

The youthful Vicious Rabbits horsed around singing in the back of the bus while Chris sat up front rubbing his temples, trying to will away the shaky vision. The boisterous singing and the clattering metal coupled with the constant bouncing over mammoth sized potholes didn't help. Chris looked out one of the vision slits in the armor to see the occasional abandoned vehicle on the side of the road with the mountains looming in the distance cast lightly with snow.

His scars throbbed, his back ached. Plus, he was tired. Chris was in great condition, no doubt. He was in the best shape in his life, in fact. At the same time, he was turning 40 next month. He just wanted to get home to Meredith and his kids. To Chris' relief, the shaky vision began to ebb now as the bus approached a Culpeper watch tower. It was also nice to thaw out inside the confines of the bus. During the summer, these vehicles were tortuous hotboxes.

"What you got in the bag?" Chris was startled out of his reverie to see Lt. Kendra Baraka sitting next to him holding a bottle of whiskey. The attractive young African American woman suddenly seemed less intimidating than when she was suited up.

Chris picked up the gym bag resting on his lap. "This? Some presents for the kids."

Kendra sat down in the bench seat beside him and examined the contents. One item was a Princess dress complete with a wand and tiara. Then she pulled out what first looked like action figures. A closer inspection showed the figure to be a lunar astronaut holding the American flag. The spidery contraption turned out to be a lunar lander.