Read Online Damnation Alley by Roger Zelazny - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roger Zelazny
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cave!"
But it broke upon them before they reached the hills. First came the hail, then the flak. The big stones followed, and the scanner on the right went dead. The sands blasted them, and they rode beneath a celestial waterfall that caused the engine to sputter and cough.
They reached the shelter of the hills, though, and found a place within a rocky valley where the walls jutted steeply forward and broke the main force of the wind/sand/dust/rock/water storm. They sat there as the winds screamed and boomed about them. They smoked and they listened.
"We won't make it," said Greg. "You were right. I thought we had a chance. We don't. Everything's against us, even the weather."
"We've got a chance," said Tanner. "Maybe not a real good one. But we've been lucky so far. Remember that."
Greg spat into the waste container.
"Why the sudden optimism? From you?"
"I was mad before, and shooting off my mouth. Well, I'm still mad, but I got me a feeling now: I feel lucky. That's all."
Greg laughed. "The hell with luck. Look out there," he said.
"I see it," said Tanner. "This buggy is built to take it, and it's doing it. Also, we're only getting about ten percent of its full strength."
"Okay, but what difference does it make? It could last for a couple days."
"So we wait it out."
"Wait too long, and even that ten percent can smash us. Wait too long, and even if it doesn't, there'll be no reason left to go ahead. Try driving, though, and it'll flatten us."
"It'll take me ten or fifteen minutes to fix that scanner. We've got spare 'eyes.' If the storm lasts more than six hours, we'll start out anyway."
"Says who?"
"Me"
"Why? You're the one who was so hot on saving his own neck. How come all of a sudden you're willing to risk it, and mine too?"
Tanner smoked awhile, then said, "I've been thinking," and then he didn't say anything else.
"About what?" Greg asked him.
"Those folks in Boston," Tanner said. "Maybe it is worth it. I don't know. They never did anything for me. But hell, I like action, and I'd hate to see the whole world get dead. I think I'd like to see Boston, too, just to see what it's like. It might even be fun being a hero, just to see what that's like. Don't get me wrong. I don't give a damn about anybody up there. It's just that I don't like the idea of everything being like the Alley here, all burned out and screwed up and full of crap. When we lost the other car back in those tornadoes, it made me start thinking. . . . I'd hate to see everybody go that way, everything. I might still cop out if I get a real good chance, but I'm just telling you how I feel now. That's all."
Greg looked away and laughed, a little more heartily than usual.
"I never suspected you contained such philosophic depths."
"Me neither. I'm tired. Tell me about your brothers and sisters, huh?"
"Okay."
Four hours later, when the storm slackened and the rocks became dust and the rain fog, Tanner replaced the right scanner and they moved on out, passing later through Rocky Mountain National Park. The dust and the fog combined to limit visibility throughout the day. That evening they skirted the ruin that was Denver, and Tanner took over as they headed toward the place that had once been called Kansas.
He drove all night, and in the morning the sky was clearer than it had been in days. He let Greg snore on and sorted through his thoughts while he sipped his coffee.
It was a strange feeling that came over him as he sat there with his pardon in his pocket and his hands on the wheel. The dust fumed at his back. The sky was the color of rosebuds, and the dark trails had shrunk once again. He recalled the stories of the day when the missiles came down, burning everything but the northeast and the southwest; the day when the winds arose and the clouds vanished and the sky had lost its blue; the days when the Panama Canal had been shattered and radios had ceased to function; the days when the planes could no longer fly. He regretted this,
But it broke upon them before they reached the hills. First came the hail, then the flak. The big stones followed, and the scanner on the right went dead. The sands blasted them, and they rode beneath a celestial waterfall that caused the engine to sputter and cough.
They reached the shelter of the hills, though, and found a place within a rocky valley where the walls jutted steeply forward and broke the main force of the wind/sand/dust/rock/water storm. They sat there as the winds screamed and boomed about them. They smoked and they listened.
"We won't make it," said Greg. "You were right. I thought we had a chance. We don't. Everything's against us, even the weather."
"We've got a chance," said Tanner. "Maybe not a real good one. But we've been lucky so far. Remember that."
Greg spat into the waste container.
"Why the sudden optimism? From you?"
"I was mad before, and shooting off my mouth. Well, I'm still mad, but I got me a feeling now: I feel lucky. That's all."
Greg laughed. "The hell with luck. Look out there," he said.
"I see it," said Tanner. "This buggy is built to take it, and it's doing it. Also, we're only getting about ten percent of its full strength."
"Okay, but what difference does it make? It could last for a couple days."
"So we wait it out."
"Wait too long, and even that ten percent can smash us. Wait too long, and even if it doesn't, there'll be no reason left to go ahead. Try driving, though, and it'll flatten us."
"It'll take me ten or fifteen minutes to fix that scanner. We've got spare 'eyes.' If the storm lasts more than six hours, we'll start out anyway."
"Says who?"
"Me"
"Why? You're the one who was so hot on saving his own neck. How come all of a sudden you're willing to risk it, and mine too?"
Tanner smoked awhile, then said, "I've been thinking," and then he didn't say anything else.
"About what?" Greg asked him.
"Those folks in Boston," Tanner said. "Maybe it is worth it. I don't know. They never did anything for me. But hell, I like action, and I'd hate to see the whole world get dead. I think I'd like to see Boston, too, just to see what it's like. It might even be fun being a hero, just to see what that's like. Don't get me wrong. I don't give a damn about anybody up there. It's just that I don't like the idea of everything being like the Alley here, all burned out and screwed up and full of crap. When we lost the other car back in those tornadoes, it made me start thinking. . . . I'd hate to see everybody go that way, everything. I might still cop out if I get a real good chance, but I'm just telling you how I feel now. That's all."
Greg looked away and laughed, a little more heartily than usual.
"I never suspected you contained such philosophic depths."
"Me neither. I'm tired. Tell me about your brothers and sisters, huh?"
"Okay."
Four hours later, when the storm slackened and the rocks became dust and the rain fog, Tanner replaced the right scanner and they moved on out, passing later through Rocky Mountain National Park. The dust and the fog combined to limit visibility throughout the day. That evening they skirted the ruin that was Denver, and Tanner took over as they headed toward the place that had once been called Kansas.
He drove all night, and in the morning the sky was clearer than it had been in days. He let Greg snore on and sorted through his thoughts while he sipped his coffee.
It was a strange feeling that came over him as he sat there with his pardon in his pocket and his hands on the wheel. The dust fumed at his back. The sky was the color of rosebuds, and the dark trails had shrunk once again. He recalled the stories of the day when the missiles came down, burning everything but the northeast and the southwest; the day when the winds arose and the clouds vanished and the sky had lost its blue; the days when the Panama Canal had been shattered and radios had ceased to function; the days when the planes could no longer fly. He regretted this,
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