15: East Village Intrigue

“We’ll reach the largest city in the country, New York, New York, in another two days. Since it was the home of seven million, with millions more surrounding the city, we’re curious how many still reside there. The large numbers should mean there are a lot of survivors. However, we don’t know how many abandoned the city, nor whether the numbers resulted in fighting over resources. What’s more, with no information on the state of the city, we don’t know the best route into the city.

We’ve planned a number of different approaches. If you’ve been listening, you know that Alice stopped in Philadelphia and spent last night in Levittown. We figure it’s the safest way into New Jersey since it has six separate bridges crossing the Delaware River. From there, she’ll take Route 1 or 9, as they offer the most alternate routes if any roads are impassable. She’ll then take the Pulaski Skyway to the Holland Tunnel, the Lincoln Tunnel or the George Washington Bridge, selecting whichever she can successfully cross. If you want to meet her, I suggest picking one of those locations. That’s especially true if you know how to cross into Manhattan. Once she reaches the city, she’ll meet anyone interested at Sheep Meadow in Central Park. Since it’s open, you can see anyone approaching and there’s a lesser chance of someone hiding behind nearby buildings. We want everyone to remain safe.

You should also know that we’ve refined our procedures. Our survival rate, which is already high, is now even better. Those undergoing treatments won’t get as sick, although we still can’t promise to treat anyone already ill. The treatment only works if initiated within hours of exposure. This isn’t a value judgment or skittishness but a simple statement of fact. With a limited supply of plasma, we can’t afford to waste it on cases we know won’t survive. We know that’s harsh, but we’re establishing communities to save people in the future, not treat whoever happens to show up. Once we get people equipped to treat the sick, they can treat whoever needs care.

We’re hoping to produce a simple vaccination, but for now we’re happy with a faster, safer and more efficient treatment.

Finally, let me close with one final detail. If the situation in the Big Apple has gotten bad, be aware we’ll consider the entire region unsafe. In that case, everyone there will have no recourse but to head to the other cities where we’ve established communities. We’ve already lost a couple of girls, and we’re limited in who we have available to treat people. Thus, if you don’t do anything else, please let us know if the region is dangerous. Your survival might depend on that information.”

Alice surveyed the Jersey City Holland Tunnel entrance before her. “Geez, this place is worse than I imagined.” Lassie barked, as if emphasizing her point, but had nothing further to add.

The trip had been difficult since crossing into New Jersey. People fled the city in multiple waves, creating new congestion problems each time. She based her estimates on the condition of the stranded cars and their corpses. Apparently the first evacuation occurred after the initial meteor storm. Since communications were wiped out, no one anticipated the damaged road conditions. The shattered remains of multiple collisions littered the highways. When the deaths mounted, subsequent exoduses followed. They too ran headlong into the previous obstructions, both the roads and the previous accidents. Without police and wreckers to restore order, the highways become permanently blocked with massive amounts of tightly packed cars.

Each followed the same pattern. Cars would slow upon reaching a shattered road segment, the cars following would crash into them, and the cars behind would stop. Then the cars at the back would reverse, only to cause further collisions. This process created permanent roadblocks consisting of thirty to fifty cars. You could identify the order each obstruction formed due to the pattern of wrecks, followed by rusting undamaged vehicles, followed by another set of collisions.

Anticipating trouble, Alice stopped in Levittown and located a sturdy cross-country motorbike, something solid enough to withstand repeated abuse. She abandoned her hybrid SUV in North Brunswick, transferring only what she could carry in her backpack, duffle bag and the plasma cooler. She drove past the obstructions, Lassie running after her, only to select a new car further down. She’d load the bike and Lassie and begin their trek again. Each time, Lassie would let her know how many dead there were by her reactions as she ran past the accumulated cars. Refilling her gas tank was surprisingly easy. Few people drained the gas tanks with no way to move the vehicles.

The New Jersey Turnpike, the most commonly used route to the city, was a virtual parking lot. All she saw was an unending line of cars, the fences surrounding it cut down by people bypassing the obstructions.

Despite the early September date, there was already scattered snow on the ground beginning in Linden. She cut her already sedate speed even further. Her bike might be sturdy enough for broken terrain and avoiding fallen trees, but was still likely to spin out on slick roads.

She was tempted to take the Goethals Bridge. The three other bridges in the area were longer expanses and more likely to be impassible. They discussed it before she set out, so she stuck to the Lincoln Highway and Pulaski Skyway, although the roads grew increasingly swamped. Only now, the cars hadn’t been left intact to rust. Instead they were stripped, not of hubcaps and radios, but of food, belongings and whatever might sustain someone. It presented a thoroughly depressing scene.

She passed close enough to the South Kearny Train Yard to see why that wasn’t an option. Even if the trains could function without electricity, the switches controlling access to the tracks couldn’t. There were scattered twisted metal husks from the resulting train wrecks.

The two short Pulaski Skyway bridges held up well, even though Alice sometimes had to lift her bike past the bridge obstructions. She bypassed the burned out chemical plants, driving on the edges of the skyway. However, the Jersey City side of the Holland Tunnel was a mess.

“It looks impassible, Lassie,” Alice observed, walking around to view it from different angles. The toll booths preceding the tunnel were crushed when the overhead structure collapsed. That blocked cars from entering, creating another impasse. “It must have been destroyed by the initial meteor shower. The wrecks look older. Judging by the possessions strewn across Newport Parkway, they sought refuge in the shopping mall across the street. Still, the tunnel seems passible on foot, despite being clogged with abandoned vehicles. Even if we abandon our bike, a known passage is safer than gambling further down the road.”

Alice unpacked her supplies again and walked down 12^th Street, paralleling the tunnel entrance. She climbed down the embankment to the tunnel’s approach, having bypassed the shrapnel blocking her access. She prepared to lift Lassie down, but she turned and growled. “Stay!” Alice cautioned, scrambling back up using the roof of a car for leverage.

“Hey!”

Cautioning Lassie, Alice’s hand dropped to her holster, despite knowing better than to make people jumpy by reaching for her weapon. There, amongst the service area parking lot between the two tunnels, a young man jogged towards them.

“You Alice?”

“I am!” she answered. Since he saw her, she encouraged Lassie to leap down. Growling at the approaching figure, she did. Alice followed Lassie and brushed herself off, preparing herself for company.

Peering over the edge, the man turned, made a motion and scrambled down the drop off to join them. Alice waited for him to approach, hoping he could tell her what to expect, or even better, who she might meet.

“I was hoping to catch you. The two tunnels are a mess. They’re completely impassible. The best approach to the city is the George Washington Bridge, north of here.”

“Really?” Alice turned and glanced into the tunnel once more, seeing a tight squeeze but nothing blocking her passage. “It looks fine to me.”

“Ah, it gets worse farther in. The Lincoln tunnel is completely flooded and this one has a gas leak. We’ve lost several people attempting to use this route.”

“I can’t imagine any gas leak lasting this long.” She stopped and started digging through her densely packed duffle bag. “Knowing how many gas line ruptures I was likely to encounter, I picked up a monitor I can use.”

“I can’t allow you to do that,” the man said, stepping closer and reaching for her. Lassie snarled, edging closer. Alice drew back quickly, again restraining Lassie.

“You can’t touch me. In case you haven’t heard, I’m a Great Death carrier. If you do, you’ll contract the plague before I’m ready to begin treatment.”

The man held both hands up and backed up again. “Damn. I forgot. Sorry, I’ll try to control myself in the future. I’m Ralph, by the way. I come from a group in Fort Lee, across from Manhattan. I’m sorry to say it, but the city is mostly ruins. It really isn’t safe.”

“Really?” Alice remembered seeing the skyscrapers across the Hudson River. They appeared structurally sound, aside from widespread shattered windows and broken edifices. Something about this guy gave her the creeps, and based on Lassie’s response, she didn’t trust him either. She suspected Ralph was inventing any excuse to prevent her from continuing, however unlikely. “Even so, it would be a lot faster to cross here. Besides, I’ve already told people I’ll meet them in Central Park tomorrow.”

“It’s dangerous, Ma’am,” he warned. “The park is filled with criminals and the tunnel is too.”

“What, the gas leak didn’t kill them all?”

Ralph blushed, caught in his lie. “Still, it’s much too dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, I can take care of myself,” Alice insisted. She grabbed her bags and set off.

Ralph looked panicked. He turned as she moved away and signaled someone above. Growing more nervous about his objective, Alice started jogging, encouraging Lassie to run ahead.

Ralph hung back, waiting for something, so they had time to enter the tunnel. Forced to stop, she dug out her flashlight and air monitor. Shouldering her duffle, she set off again. Not wanting to risk Lassie attacking Ralph, she encouraged her to advance to warn her of any problems. She was squeezing past a few cars, looking for access to the service walkway, when she heard Ralph approaching.

“I can’t let you do this alone. I better come with you.” He panted as he entered the tunnel. “There might be marauders or falling debris. As you know, you’re too valuable a resource to risk ... getting injured.”

“You’d be surprised how resourceful I am,” Alice answered, not bothering to slow down. She heard him bang into the bumper of a car and tumble. Not being callous, she stopped to see if he needed help. As she did, she shone her flashlight on the nearby cars.

“Wait. Are those... ? Damn, they are. Those are bullet holes!” She peered in the dim light. The car ahead of her was riddled with bullet holes, the back window fractured. Apparently someone fired into the tunnel from the Jersey side. For all the dangers Ralph warned her of, he hadn’t mentioned open warfare between the two sides of the tunnel.

“That’s not what it looks like,” Ralph cautioned, struggling forward in the darkness.

Alice held her hand up, warning him away. “Hold up, let me look around.” She continued inspecting the car, then the next two. “Shit! There’s fresh blood. You’ve had a firefight here in the past couple of hours.”

“It’s not—”

“Look, I’m tired of you trying to sell me a bill of goods. But it’s clear this passage is more dangerous for you than me. Fresh blood is an immediate contamination source. I’m immune, plus I know what to avoid. As you’ve seen, you can’t see well enough to make it through the open parts of the tunnel without falling. Your risk of accidental infection is too high. At least head back and get some damn gloves!”

Ralph stopped, glancing at his hand, noticing he tore his sleeve and there was blood on his hand. He started backing up. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“You can catch up,” she insisted, increasing the distance between them. “Just make sure you get a decent flashlight, enough batteries to last the entire passage and a medical kit.”

Alice knew it would take time to prepare those items. She also knew she was limber enough she could manage the crowded tunnel quicker than he could. It didn’t take her long to figure out she made better time walking across the tops of the cars. She leapt from car to car, or from car to catwalk to avoid the bigger trucks. As such, she made good time. Lassie had a harder time, but was slim enough to slip through passages Alice couldn’t. She’d supplied her with doggie booties to guard against the cold and potential infections, so she wasn’t worried about her hurting herself. Alice scampered from rooftop to rooftop just as she had in the trees on her father’s property. This activity was second nature to her, despite the frequent stops to recover from her heavy load.

“Damn, I wonder what kind of conflict they’re involved in? Could the people from Jersey really be firing on anyone attempting to flee Manhattan? That seems drastic, especially if I can treat the people in Manhattan, reducing the risks to everyone.” She shook her head, unable to comprehend the lengths people would go when reacting from fear rather than thinking reasonably.

The trek under the Hudson River took a long time. Maneuvering around obstructions in the oppressive darkness was grueling, and her claustrophobia was only held at bay by her single flashlight. But Alice eventually saw the glow of daylight ahead of her. The extra light made progress easier, so she made faster progress. Lassie, who stuck close by her side, felt freer to roam, even though she didn’t have far to wander. Nearing the exit, the increased light revealed more evidence of gunfire, though she couldn’t tell how old they were.

“Halt! Don’t move. We have you in our sights!”

Despite her heavy load, Alice held her arms out to show she wasn’t a threat while commanding Lassie to stay. “Don’t shoot. I’m here to help.” Given the glare, she could only see a vague outline of the person shouting. “I’ve got treatments for the—”

“Are you Alice?” the man shouted excitedly.

“Yeah, I am.”

The guard lowered his rifle. “Damn, we’ve been waiting for you. We tried to cross into Jersey to help you across, but the buggers started shooting at us. Come on. We have whatever you need.”

“Thanks. I could use some help with these bags. Although they didn’t seem so heavy when I started, they’re getting difficult now.”

“Sure.” He studied the dark tunnel behind her. “No one is following you, are they?”

“Someone said he would, but if he is, he’s a long ways back. I suspect I’m a bit younger and nimbler than he is.”

The man jogged to her, but hesitated at seeing Lassie. Despite her troubles with Ralph, Lassie wagged her tail at the guy, glad to be out of the dark tunnel. Alice handed the guy her duffle bag once she determined he was wearing gloves.

“It seems there’s a lot of animosity between the two sides.” Alice released lassie, who rushed ahead, sniffing the open air and prancing around before returning and barking her all clear.

“Yeah, there is.” He hefted his load, slinging his rifle over his other shoulder, continuing to talk as they walked. “It’s all about limited resources. Although we suffered heavy casualties, there were so many people living here, we ran out of certain necessary supplies long before the final die-offs. The Jersey boys are afraid we’ll storm across and steal their oil and gas supplies. They won’t allow us to leave.”

“Damn, that’s just stupid.” Alice shaded her eyes to block the glare of the sun as they entered the street. “There are too few of us left to bicker over what’s left. If we can’t pool our resources, we’ll all die separately.”

“You’re preaching to the choir, honey.” The older man set Alice’s bag down and cupped his hands to his mouth. “GUEST!”

As they waited for everyone else to show up, Alice turned and examined the man beside her, only then noticing his collar. He was a young black man, already balding, but wore a liturgical collar.

Noticing her look, he turned and flashed her another smile. “My name’s Peter Martin.”

“So, Reverend Martin, what do you make of the state we’re in? Does it shake your faith, or do you still believe that God works in mysterious ways?”

“You sound like your own faith has been tested,” he answered, smiling at her. “I’ll admit, I’ve questioned how God could abandon us so readily. But then, he answered our prayers when we received your broadcasts. And he’s continued to reach out olive branches, as you’ve discovered. First a treatment and then you were forced to seek out others to treat.”

Alice nodded. “I’ve got to admit, things seem too coincidental. It seems almost ... arranged, rather than happening by chance.”

“Exactly. God doesn’t prevent evil or stop natural disasters. After all, the dinosaurs didn’t die out because they were sinful. Things just happen. What’s more, when they do, he doesn’t step in and make everything better. No, he expects us to step up and handle things ourselves. But he grants us peace of mind, resolves our doubts and gives us the serenity to carry on despite how bleak things look.”

“Ah, you’re a Calvinist. Using the words of Benjamin Franklin: God helps those who help themselves?”

“Sort of, though those words predate Mr. Franklin.” Peter pulled a worn cigarette out of his pocket and lit it, taking a few puffs before continuing. “There’s a variant of the phrase in the Quran and similar sentiments were expressed in the Greek tragedies. But the way I prefer to think of it is, we can’t wait around for God’s grace. We’ve got to do what we can to save ourselves.”

Alice motioned towards the rifle still slung over his shoulder, matching her own, though his was a regular hunting rifle. “So that explains your willingness to break the seventh commandment? Or even killing yourself with those damn cigarettes?”

He laughed as they noticed several people approaching. “The cigarettes might kill me in another thirty years. If I survive that long, I’ll consider myself blessed and go quietly. As for the rifle, I wasn’t looking to hurt you. So far, I haven’t killed anyone, though I’ve defended both myself and others from harm. The Bible doesn’t say to sacrifice yourself out of principal.”

Alice turned, planting her hands on her hips as she cocked her head. “No? What about ‘turn the other cheek’?”

“I interpret that to mean you’ve got to work beyond first impulses. No one can function if they fly into a huff the first time they’re offended. More wars have been waged over some unintentional slight than over any single principal. Take it from me, as a black man it would be easy to blame America, whites and society for keeping me oppressed for centuries. But that doesn’t help me live my life. Instead, you must turn your back on hatred, extending the other cheek to further abuse in an effort to move beyond it.”