Charges (13 page)

Vincenzo stepped into the street then turned right. Most of the pedestrians were sticking to the usual walkways, so he wended his way around dead cars, trucks, and buses. Bicyclists zipped past in both directions, and they looked at him out of simple curiosity, as he was one of few pedestrians in the street itself. He pulled a bottle of warm water from his knapsack and chugged it then won a brief internal battle to prevent himself from drinking another. He had to marshal his water. His clothes were soaked with sweat, but he wasn’t about to drop from dehydration just yet.

As he walked, he glanced at the stores on either side of the street: Cindy’s Nails, a VFW post, a bank with a uniformed security guard staring back at him through the still-intact plate-glass windows, and a Vietnamese restaurant open for business with a handwritten sign in the window that read, “$ORRY CA$H ONLY.” The smell of cooking food made Vincenzo’s stomach growl, but he didn’t stop, even though he could have used a good bowl of pho right about then.
One foot in front of the other, bro. Keep going.

A group of elderly folks were clustered around a deceased tour bus. Vincenzo altered his course a bit, putting some distance between him and the old people. There was no one less than sixty-five among them, and he wondered how they would fare over the coming days. Society hadn’t given a damn about the elderly when the lights were still on; chances were good they weren’t going to have a better time in the Dark Ages Part II. He felt sorry for them, but he had a job to do.
One foot in front of the other.

Ahead, kids splashed through a huge puddle of water that had apparently been born when a car crashed into a fire hydrant. The water had stopped flowing when the pressure had bled off, but some still gurgled from the pipe below the street. While the children played, adults were filling vessels: plastic bottles, turkey basters, whatever they could put their hands on.

Gradually, the downtown area of Fort Lee fell behind, and Vincenzo moved into the suburbs. He saw families with little kids. The fathers and mothers watched him walk past with gazes that were more curious than suspicious. Apparently, violence and looting hadn’t reached their backyards, but he figured the criminals would be making an appearance over the coming nights. No one approached him, and he didn’t do anything to give them reason to. He just stuck to the middle of the street and kept hoofing it.

When he crossed under the overpass for Route 46, he found the on-ramps were full of dead vehicles. Police were congregating near the foot of the ramp. They were on horseback, motor scooters, dirt bikes, and ATVs. They eyed him warily, but he couldn’t avoid walking right up to the group. He drifted off to the right in a bid to slip past.

One of the cops held up a hand. “Where you headed?” He was a sallow-faced man with an award-winning case of five o’clock shadow.

“West,” Vincenzo said, slowing but not stopping.

“How
far
west?” the cop asked. He stepped in Vincenzo’s path, forcing him to stop. Some other cops drifted closer, and Vincenzo felt a dozen pairs of eyes on him.

“Los Angeles,” Vincenzo said. “My family’s in Los Angeles. That’s where I’m headed.”

The cop smirked and looked at the other police officers. “Hear that?”

“Hella walk, bro,” another said. He sat astride a dirt bike and had an AR-style rifle slung over one shoulder.

“No kidding,” Vincenzo said.

“ID,” the first cop said. “Slowly.”

Vincenzo reached into his right rear pocket and pulled out his wallet. He handed his California driver’s license to the cop, who took it and studied it with the intensity of a priest reading the Bible.

“Huh,” the cop said. “Fourteen twenty-two Devlin Drive, Los Angeles, California.”

“Really?” an older cop asked, stepping closer. The first one handed him the license, and the older one whistled. “Man, you really
do
have a long walk. Where’s this Devlin Drive?”

“The hills,” Vincenzo said.

“So you’re just passing through, then?”

“As quickly as I can.”

“Where you coming from, man?” the first cop asked.

“Manhattan,” Vincenzo said. “I’d just started a new job. My family was supposed to come out next week.”

“So why are you leaving New York? Why not wait for the lights to come back on?”

Because they’re not coming back on, asshole.
Vincenzo bit back the sarcastic response. “Because New York’s busting apart at the seams. The city’s becoming a basket case. You could probably tell by all the foot traffic coming across the George.”

“Yeah, we’ve seen it, but the state is handling the response,” the first cop said. “At least, for now. You really think you’re going to be able to make it back to LA on foot, Hollywood?”

“Gotta get to my family. If things get fixed before then, I’ll gladly catch the first airplane or train or bus I can find.”

“Yeah? Well, I think you’re a crazy son of a bitch. You should’ve stayed in New York with the rest of the assholes.”

“Hey, Lenny. Let’s give the guy his license back and let him get on his way,” the older cop said, handing the ID back to the younger one. “As far as we know, his story checks out, and he doesn’t look like he’s interested in getting in any trouble. Are you, guy?”

Vincenzo shook his head. “Hell, no. I’ve got a long walk ahead of me, and people I need to see.”

“I say we search him,” the first cop said.

“For what reason?” Vincenzo asked.

“Because we can, you mope.”

Vincenzo eyed the older cop and spread his hands. He hoped the guy had some juice because if they searched him and found
two
weapons, they would be unlikely to let him go.

The older cop rubbed the white stubble on his chin. “Nah, let’s let him get on his way. Hand back his ID, Lenny.”

“We got no idea who this hump is,” Lenny said. “He’s hiding something. I can see it, and so can you.”

“I’m not hiding shit,” Vincenzo said. “I just want to get on my way. Like I said, I’ve got a very long, very dangerous trip ahead of me.” He turned and pointed at the column of black smoke on the horizon. It had been joined by two more. “You want something to do? Head over that way and start cuffing the looters and arsonists and kid rapers and whoever else might be in Fort Lee. Because they’re headed this way, guys. You’re going to be busy as hell in the next couple of days. Trust me.”

“How do you mean?” the older cop asked.

“New York’s blowing up. Anyone who can is going to be getting the hell out of there once they figure out the mayor and his people can’t do anything for them. It’s going to be a hot summer, which means water’s going to start running out. No one can exactly drink the Hudson and East Rivers, right? Those people are going to be moving out over the next few days, not so many at first, but more and more as time goes on. You’ll be up to your ears in people you won’t know what to do with. Trust me on this. I’ve just seen it up close and personal.”

“Oh, yeah? You some kind of security expert or something?” Lenny asked.

“No. Just a guy trying to get back to his family, Officer.”

“We hear what you’re saying,” the older cop said. “Or at least, I do. And since I’m the senior commander on site, you’re free to go.” He stepped closer, and the kindly expression disappeared like a cockroach under a wallboard. When he spoke again, his voice was low and intense. “But you fuck up, you do anything that brings you back in front of us, and I’ll put two in the back of your head myself. You get me?”

Vincenzo had no doubt the man was telling the truth. “I get you. You guys won’t be seeing me again. Unless I wind up getting killed in your town, and someone brings you my body.”

The older cop smiled thinly. “Come on, Lenny. We’re holding our dicks here. Give the man his ID, and let him get on his way.”

Lenny handed back the license with obvious reluctance. “Get the fuck outta here. This street becomes Fort Lee Road a few hundred yards up, but stay on it. Once you cross into Leonia, you’re not our problem anymore.”

“Leonia?” Vincenzo frowned. “Where’s Leonia?”

“Next town up the road,” the older cop said. “But to get across the Overpeck Creek, you need to stay on Fort Lee Road. Unless you want to get wet, that is. Once you’re over the creek, you’ll be in Teaneck.”

“No, I don’t want to get wet. Thanks for the information.” Vincenzo tucked his license back in his wallet. “You guys have a good night.”

###

Almost three hours later, Vincenzo found the park. Dusk had announced itself almost thirty minutes ago, and as he trudged through the town of Leonia, he had been thinking that he might not make it to the park after all. People were still out and about, but there was a kind of hurry about them. Flashlights cut through the glowing gloom, and through the windows of houses and apartment buildings, he saw the pale glows of candles. In the distance, he heard the rumble of a motorcycle, but it wasn’t headed his way. He knew that his luck was running out. While Leonia didn’t seem to be a hostile place, it surely housed its fair share of unsavory types, people who might be emboldened by the lack of communication among law enforcement. While he’d seen very little signs of looting—a convenience store had been knocked over, but that was about it—he knew it wouldn’t take long for it to start.

The park wasn’t as heavily forested as he’d hoped, but it was definitely preferable to sleeping behind a dumpster in a back alley somewhere. He also found out that he wasn’t the only person to have the idea to crash out in the park. There were already several tents erected, and a few groups of people had big cooking fires blazing. Vincenzo stealthily moved away from them, pushing into a row of brush. In the shadows, he could see people were already there. They looked up at him with tense expressions. He held up his hand in apology and moved on. He found a copse of trees, but a young family had already claimed the spot. The husband reached for a rifle.

“Easy,” Vincenzo said. “Just passing by.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” the man ordered, raising the rifle to his shoulder.

“On it.” Vincenzo spun around and walked away.

He wanted to stay in the general vicinity of Fort Lee Road, as it was the only artery he knew of that would cross the creek.
 
He hadn’t expected to have the park to himself, but he hadn’t thought it would be a freaking convention, either. As he moved through the center of the park, the crowds grew. Not everyone was well equipped. A social strata seemed to be forming between the haves and have-nots. Those with tents, camping gear, or at least some supplies tended to cluster together, while those without were shunned. The latter group stared at Vincenzo with hungry, desperate eyes. Many were children, and their presence reminded him of Benny. Was Jessie able to take care of him? Had Grant been able to get to them and give them a helping hand? He shook his head.

Not your problem right now
.
Find a place where these people can’t get to you.

Half an hour later, he smelled water. He slowed as he approached a heavy line of brush. In the distance, he heard the sound of running water. He took that to mean he was close to the creek, and for a moment, he considered finding the creek and filling up some water bottles. But he’d always been told that open water sources were horribly polluted and that illness was certain to follow if he drank from a stream. He had no idea whether that was true or not, but he wasn’t going to put the theory to the test just yet. He probed the line of brush, looking for a way through. He finally found an opening, and he crept forward slowly so as not to surprise anyone. He came out in a small clearing that looked as if it hadn’t seen any activity in quite a while. The grass was tall and weedy. A quick glance at his watch told him it was twenty minutes after eight. He wanted to switch on a flashlight to have a look around, but he didn’t dare.

He shrugged off his knapsack and backpack and plopped down on the ground. His entire body ached, so he stretched a bit, trying to work out some of the kinks. Overhead, stars shone in a sky made suddenly vivid by the lack of light pollution. The astral vista reminded him of trips to the mountain states, where the nights were deep and dark and the stars blazed like brilliant diamonds strewn across the heavens. He never expected to see such a sight in the east, where the illumination of great American mega-cities pretty much ripped the night apart, slashing through the veil of darkness like a murderer’s dagger through a silken blouse.