Read Online Ping - From the Apocalypse by Susan Lowry - Free Book Online

ankles and pulled him into the ditch, then slid the woman down beside him. Climbing back up onto the road, she stood for a moment catching her breath, still gazing around suspiciously and feeling even more vulnerable outside her car. Those were obviously the couple’s kids straight ahead in the SUV with the open doors and no-one in the front seat — poor things.
    She put her gloves in a plastic bag and stored them away for later use — not intended for protection against the cold anymore. Continuing on to the end of the ramp and then swinging west, she drove by one horror after another, slowly desensitizing — the ghastliness fading and the details gradually reducing to white noise.

Chapter Thirteen
    Trouble at Customs
    (March 2 0th, Year One, PA)
     
    Though it did appear to be working just fine, Kate decided not to use her GPS; she guessed the satellites would continue to do their job without humans for a while, but she had no idea if they would still be accurate. She nearly reached for her phone to google the answer.
    Anyway, she knew how to read a map . Before driving onward, she studied the possibilities. Best to travel from one small town to another along the country roads where the chaos should be minimal. Unfortunately there were problematic areas that couldn’t be avoided, her major concern being the US border.
    She highlighted her new route with a yellow marker, folded the map and put it in the pocket on her door. Then she pulled into gear and managed to make it to the end of the ramp, turning left onto a major road.
    Her tank could use toping up , though she could have made it all the way to the Peace Bridge with what was in the trunk. Fortunately the gas pump at the next station worked just fine. That gave her a bit of relief. But for the sake of her sanity she checked several more along the way forgiving herself for being obsessive about it.
    By avoiding the cities, keeping west of Hamilton and then St. Catharine’s, she finally made it to the border, which was when her real problems began. By pure luck she did get through an inspection booth to the Peace Bridge. But the congestion over the river was the worse she’d seen yet.
    If she wanted to avoid getting stranded in another snowstorm there would be no time to be driving all over the place. T he same problem would likely be encountered at all the crossings anyway. Fort Erie to Buffalo was her shortest route.
    She began to weave her way onto the bridge having to drive up on the sidewalk in places. If she had to walk across with Snowy, risking his health in the cold and abandoning her possessions, it might be a long walk before she found a functional vehicle. They would be out in the open, possibly vulnerable to who knows what — it was one of her worst fears.
    There were so many trucks , and it became tight in several places but she managed to just squeeze between them, grateful she was in a relatively small car. Ahead of her however, was not looking good — and to top it off it was beginning to snow — just a few flurries so far, but still, it could always get worse.
    N o way was she turning around. There had to be a way through this somehow. She got out of her car and walked along the sidewalk, checking ahead. It wasn’t that far to the other side. If the cars were just spread out a little more she’d be able to get by. They needed rearranging.
    T hat god-damned massive truck was the problem. There was quite a lot of space a few cars ahead of it, but in the left-hand lane it was fender to fender for dozens of vehicles along. The truck was her only option.
    She walked back to it, opened the cab door and stepped up, to find the driver, poor soul, leaning to his right a little; he just needed a bit of a shove with her boot and he keeled all the way over out of her way.
    She suddenly wondered if there was any gas left in the sucker. Of course it had probably been idling long after the driver passed away. The engine would have conked out either from