Ch.1 Athena's Iniquitous Gift

Chapter 1
"We were talking about the space between us all and the people who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion. Never glimpse the truth-then it's far too late when they pass away." -George Harrison

To this day I marvel at my continued relationship with Jason. Of course, I lost my rose colored glasses when he dumped me to take an out of town girl to the homecoming dance in high school. We managed to stay friends after a suitable period of punishment that bordered on psychotic stalking on my part. I like to think that I have gained a little perspective, as I've grown older.

Jason had a nickname in high school- “Bondoman”. I helped him sand and paint the Vega, even when we weren't speaking. It's still the same black color, although the worst panels have been replaced. He still keeps a tub of Bondo around just in case.

Chris is our neighbor and cohort. Chris is another high school sweetie, part of the Jason punishment regimen of sophomore year. And another great guy that I was way too hard on. Chris's family is from England and he still has just a touch of the accent. He uses it to full advantage when we go out. The Chris Morris charm is quite legendary.

Jason and I moved to Indiana shortly after high school was over. We both needed a fresh start away from the people who knew us best. He immediately went to work for a garage in a little town called Veedersburg and I worked as a florist and bartender. We did okay most of the time, except when he was 'In Luv'. He had this thing for lunatic women. It seems like there was a crazed jealous woman in the background for years- and it wasn't me.

Chris joined us about 3 months after we moved to Veedersburg. Though the three of us never hung out together in school, we found that we had a great dynamic at parties on the few visits Jason & I took home. Timid with girls in school, Chris had blossomed into a regular ladies man when adulthood began to settle in. He had kind blue eyes, a quick smile and he was always ready with a joke. He still is.

The world has gotten pretty crazy lately. News reports talk about rioting in the major cities and the National Guard has been called up for the last year. I guess we are lucky to be between large urban areas. Being mechanically inclined, we have been pretty much off the grid ever since the energy crisis hit critical mass. We have a well that supplies our little corner of four duplex rentals and recently we installed two windmills for power. They aren't huge, but they are certainly more reliable than the power company. Everyone has solar cell generators, but once they go down its difficult to get them fixed. Chris was taking classes at the community college and learned a little something about the solar tech, just enough to really do some damage I think.

The owners of the duplexes have delivered a notice. They will not be renewing our leases next month. Or anyone else's. I think that they have realized that we are better off in the duplexes than they are in their large house in town. So they'll move in when we leave. I am sorely tempted to take all of our improvements with us. But we can't fit them all in the Vega, and gas mileage has become a life or death issue. No, we'll be traveling light. Besides, they have kids. I just can't punish the kids because their parent’s have a sense of self-preservation.

The feeling of impending doom has cast a pall over everyone we know. The religious experts say it is time for the End of Days. The government promises us that everything will be just fine, but the time for us to Band Together for the Greater Good is Now!! Basically, we are on our own. The government has no money to help anyone, and money has lost a lot of its intrinsic value. My mom (Supreme Authority of All Things Important) prefers to ignore things until they go away, which has been fairly effective for her. She lives outside of Paxton with her new husband (thank Gawd!) and they have every gadget imaginable. They are in better shape than most.

Chris, Jason and I are going to make the trip back to Paxton before they close the roads altogether. Chris's family went back to the UK before the really bad troubles started. Jason's are living in a Mennonite compound, and aren't going to be excited to see all of us.
My family will be thrilled to have us and probably won't want us to leave. Oh Joy!
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I took a moment to study Jason’s profile as we pulled away from the duplexes. He was beginning to develop crow’s feet around his eyes, but he still has this unruly mop of dark brown hair. I looked away as he raised his spit can to his lips. I never could get past the chewing, herbal or otherwise. I was in a special kind of Hell when Chris decided to chew as well for about a month. Fortunately, Chris wouldn’t let a silly thing like a habit get in the way of picking up women. Since most women are repulsed by spit cans and chewing in general- the Chew had to go.

Jason turned to look at me and smiled, letting it get all the way up into his eyes. Now, how’s a girl gonna resist that?! He has the softest deep brown eyes that turn hazel every now and then. They were brown and faintly excited today. It was infectious.

Chris leaned forward from the back seat and pointed ahead.

“Look up there, are we too late d’ya think?” Chris gestured, a worried tone in his voice.

“No, they started that a few days ago. Somehow they are tracking the number of vehicles on the main roads between checkpoints.” Jason assured us.

The National Guard has been stationed at on & off ramps along Interstate highways for about a year now. For a while it was to prevent random acts of terrorism through bombs and ramming. Then it also became an issue of stewardship of resources. People were no longer allowed to just drive around by themselves in an empty car. It was considered wasteful (and it really was). Now you had to have a driver and at least one navigator. Emergency services were strained to the limit; it is in everyone’s best interest to have an extra pair of eyes watching for giant gaping potholes and craters.

A nice side effect of the energy crises and the new driving rules is the surge of single person alternatively powered vehicles to be found. Obviously, motorcycles are more common than actual cars these days. Especially on road/off road varieties. Wind Sails, which are sort of like large skateboards with a sail attached, are also fairly common. They usually have a small motor in case the wind isn’t cooperating. They can get moving at a pretty good clip (45-60mph) and are highly maneuverable. Herds of bicyclists are seen from time to time, but rarely singly because of the dangers associated with travel these days. Large trucks are only seen in armed, escorted convoys. Indeed, a string of about 20 trucks were pulled over at the entrance, waiting to begin the journey to the next checkpoint.
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It took about 2 hours to make it through the next two check points. We didn’t have to stop for a single wreck and the National Guard must have just patched the major holes up. Up ahead though, in Danville, I could see trouble brewing.

Danville is the regional armpit. No one wants to have to stop out here. With a large population of ex-cons, some from the local prison & some shipped down from Chicago, Danville is not known to be friendly or accommodating. It was economically depressed before everything went to Hell.

Chris was snoozing in the back, but he woke up when he felt us slow down. We didn’t say a word, but we all could feel the rising tension.

Jason pulled us over to the exit line, leaving a nice margin of distance between the next car and us. Chris turned around to watch the car behind us. He’d tell us if they looked like they were too close. It was a little red minivan and they had been sort of ‘buddy driving’ with us since the last checkpoint. They stopped two car lengths behind us and we all let out a quiet sigh of relief. Chris continued to watch out the back. Jason and I watched ahead, crouched sort of low in our seats. If someone had a bomb, this is about where it will be detonated.

The object of these bombings was to railroad trucks into getting off on only the ramps that the pirates wanted them to, or to force the convoys to stay on the interstate. The best way to do that, obviously, is to blow up all of the other exit and entrance ramps. Piracy is punishable by immediate death now, and I am not talking about illegally procuring music and videos.

The line suddenly started moving, lurching forward faster than anticipated. This couldn’t be a good sign…

A Guardsman came in to view, frantically motioning us forward and to the right. The van behind us closed the distance. We were being herded towards a large parking lot a distance away from the exit. As we passed the Guardsman we saw him kneel down and begin to sight in his M-16, towards something coming up from the rear.

Pulling up near the parking lot, we found that it was full. Another Guardsman told us to stop where we were. He spoke on his radio and then approached the car.

Jason lowered his window.

“You’ll have to go to the residential street on the far side of this lot. Pull over along the curb anywhere there is a space.” He said pointing in the direction we needed to go.

“What’s happening?” Jason asked him.

“It looks like someone is trying to take out a convoy coming up from Veedersburg. Move along now, we need to keep this road clear.” He stepped back and motioned at the minivan behind us.

We turned off at the correct road and pulled over, followed by the minivan. We sat and waited for about a minute when a woman got out of the van behind us and walked up to Jason’s window.
I got my 9mm into a functional but not overtly threatening position. I also cracked my door so that all I had to do was lean on it to get it open. What was this woman thinking?

She put both her hands up as she approached. Jason opened his door and swung his legs out.
She stopped about 6 ft away and asked loudly if we knew what was going on. Jason told her what we knew.

Apparently deciding she wasn’t a threat Jason got out of the car. Her van emptied as well, producing an adult male and two children. They all looked tired.

It turns out this family was traveling from Cincinnati. They had been the victims of arson and were trying to get to relatives in St Louis. They had been through this sort of checkpoint madness just outside of Indy. Unfortunately, criminals have taken to eyeballing groups like this for robbery. While the family stopped for gas before getting back on the highway, several men had taken all of the food and many of their belongings. Understandably, they were less than thrilled about having to go through this ordeal again.

We talked about the situation for about 5 minutes, speculating. Suddenly there was a loud boom coming from the direction of the highway. The kids scrambled back to the van. Chris and the woman ran for the corner of the road as Jason & I jumped in the Vega. We backed out to the corner, with the minivan next to us. No one could turn on or off at this corner with us parked there, and that was the way we wanted it. Jason and the man stayed at the wheel of their respective vehicles. Chris & the woman strained to see something around the corner. I lowered my window and squirmed out, sitting in it so I could see over the car and hear Jason & Chris if necessary.

Another loud boom went off and now we could hear the chatter of gunfire. Chris & the woman couldn’t see anything and they came back to their vehicles.

“Irene says that we should try to get a room for the night right now. The ramps are going to be closed for the night most likely, and everyone in these holding lots will be herded into camps for questioning. We have the chance to avoid that if we leave now. She knows of an old senior community that has rooms for the night. What do you think?” Chris asked breathlessly.

The woman, Irene, motioned for us to follow her as the van pulled ahead of us. I looked expectantly at Jason. He shrugged his shoulder and moved forward a bit to indicate we were following. With disaster sirens blaring, we followed the minivan down mostly deserted streets.