“Don’t they?” Don asked. “It might not be as long as we’ve had, but they have it now. I don’t think you could have given them a greater gift.”
Rodney scowled. “I didn’t do anything.”
Don kissed the underside of his jaw. “Okay.”
They left the caravan early the next morning, the sun barely peeking above the horizon. A heavy mist hung over the field, low curls of fog at their feet. Juniper and Pantomime joined them outside their RV, the pair wrapped in a wool blanket.
“Where will you go?” Don asked them.
Juniper grinned. “Thinking about a honeymoon. The Poconos, in Pennsylvania. Cabins up there. Seems like a good place to sit out the rest of time.”
“All of you going?”
Pantomime shrugged. “Maybe. Most are still headed for Canada, but the borders might be an issue. Everything is shut down. No one going in or out. If they try, they’ll have to be smart about it. What about you two? Washington, still?”
Don nodded. “Washington.”
She cocked her head quizzically. “Will you find what you’re looking for there?”
“Yes,” Rodney said, and Don believed him.
Rodney and Don took turns hugging Juniper and Pantomime. When Rodney and Juniper came together, Juniper whispered something in Rodney’s ear. Rodney didn’t move. When Juniper pulled away, Rodney said, “Been doing it for this long. Can’t stop now. Won’t stop now.”
As they drove down the small hill back to the road, a line of people stood next to the remains of the bonfire, waving under the morning sky.
When they were out of sight, Don asked, “What did Juniper say to you?”
Rodney’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. “Some hippie bullshit.”
“Rodney.”
He sighed. “He said that I’m to love you forever.”
“And you can’t stop?”
“Can’t. Won’t. Not now, not ever.”
They drove on.
After a time, Don reached over and took Rodney’s hand in his. It was enough.
CHAPTER 4
Jupiter would fall in the next few days.
They left the radio on, sometimes, to be kept informed. Cities burning. Cities on lockdown. Chaos in Europe, Asia, Canada, in Africa, in South America. In the United States, the president urged calm, peace. Like a stern grandfather, he admonished those who looted, rioted, those who screamed and begged for help. “There’s only so much I can tolerate,” he said, sounding ancient and worn, no different than he’d been previously. “Consider this a final warning: Anyone caught breaking the law will be dealt with as swiftly and harshly as the situation calls for. Why make the last days so difficult? Let us pray.”
After that, Rodney turned the radio dial until he found classical music. Polonaise-Fantaisie by Chopin. He left it there.
Indiana. Illinois. It was slow going. Rodney didn’t like to drive more than a few hours at a stretch. They had time, but every now and then, Don would think,What if it happens sooner? What if we don’t make it?
They saw others on the road. People in cars, in RVs both bigger and smaller than their own. As they crossed Illinois, they were forced onto highways with more and more lanes. The back roadsthey’d been trying to keep to proved to be too much for the RV. Heavy rain turned some of the roads into muddy swamps, and Rodney didn’t want them to get stuck in case no one could help them. Don kept their phones charged, the warnings about loss of service ringing in his ears. He continued to screenshot their route, making sure to include alternatives in case a road or highway was impassable. They had the paper map in the glove box, but at least they’d have backup in case the map was too difficult to read.
They knew they were in trouble when they reached a four-lane blacktop and immediately were forced to slow to a crawl. In front of them, red taillights stretched on as far as the eye could see. They stayed in the far-right lane. To their left, a row of stopped traffic, a concrete divider, and then two lanes in the opposite direction, mostly empty. To their right, trees dotted the landscape, sparse. In the distance, thicker trees.
“Shit,” Rodney muttered as he brought the RV to a stop, leaving a car’s length of distance between them and the vehicle in front. The radio had long been switched off. “What do you think?”
Don squinted down at his phone. He wasn’t very good at using it, but he could find his way around most of it. “The GPS is all messed up. Says the road should be clear.”