Rourke stood in the middle of the square; in front of him-miraculously-still standing-was the oldest church in the American southwest. Around it, much of the rest of Albuquerque's old town was gutted and burned. He glanced down to the Rolex on his wrist. It was almost four A.M., and the sun would not be up for more than three hours. There were no lights, except for lights from inside the church, and Rourke assumed these had to be Coleman lamps or candies. Whole streets had ripped apart when the firestorm had hit natural gas lines. There was no electricity.
Rourke shivered under his sweater and coat. Shifting the rifle from his shoulder, he stood there a moment, staring at the old church. He remembered taking Sarah and Michael there once, several years ago. Michael had enjoyed playing in the old town cul-de-sacs, watching the Indians selling their jewelry along the square. Sarah had wanted a rug from one of the shops, but for some reason which Rourke couldn't remember now, they hadn't purchased it.
There were no people on the street, but he could hear the howling of dogs. Rourke turned and glanced at the five men with him, standing together to his left. 'Well,' he said. 'I guess here's where we part company-at least those who want to. Looks from here like that Catholic Church is probably being used as a shelter. Anybody's who's not coming with me back to the plane, can split here. I'm going to check that shelter after I take care of a couple of things, then I'm going to find the closest thing to a hospital.' He lit a cigar, then said, 'Anybody coming with me, step over here.'
None of the five men moved for a moment. Then Rubenstein-a smallish man with a receding hairline and wire framed glasses-stepped away from the other four and walked toward Rourke. 'What about you, O'Toole?' Rourke said through a cloud of cigar smoke.
'No. I don't want to go back,' O'Toole said. 'I don't know if I'm hanging in with them, either, but I'm not going back to the plane.'
'Suit yourself-and good luck,' Rourke added. Turning to Rubenstein, Rourke said, 'Well, friend. Let's go.' Without waiting for a reply, Rourke started across the fire-scorched square, picking his way over the large gouges in the pavement and away from the church.
He heard Rubenstein, beside him saying, 'Where are we going, Mr. Rourke?'
'It's John. 'What's your first name?'
'Paul.'
'Well, Paul, Albuquerque is a town where a lot of people were interested in prospecting. Geology, things like that. So I'm looking to find a geological equipment shop, where there might be a Geiger counter. I want to see how much radiation we've taken. And then, we get back to the plane. I want to check out the rest of us.'
Rubenstein walked silently for a while, then asked, 'Tell me, John, what're you going to do then-after we help those people back there?'
Rourke turned and looked at him, 'Well, going back across the country. See, my wife, Sarah, and our two children. They're back in Georgia.'
'But all those missiles that were going off around the Mississippi River-that whole area between here and Georgia is going to be just a huge desert, a big crater.'
Rourke said slowly, 'I've thought of that. Here, turn down here.' He moved onto the ruins of a side street. 'There were a lot of little stores down here, I remember.'
'I never been to Albuquerque before,' Rubenstein said.
'It was a nice town,' Rourke said, his voice low. 'But, anyway, I'll get back to Georgia-maybe work my way down through Mexico then up along the Gulf Coast. I'll have to play it by ear.
'What if they're dead when you get there?'
Rourke stopped in mid-stride and turned to Rubenstein. 'You married?'
'No, I have a mother and father in St. Petersburg, Florida.'
'Are you going back for them?'
'I hadn't thought about it. I don't know.'
'You got anyplace else to go, anything else to do?'
'No, I guess not.'
'Neither have I,' Rourke said. 'I'm going on the idea that my wife and children are still alive. I'm going to look for them. And if they're not home-we had a farm in a rural part of the state-and I don't find hard evidence that they're dead, I'll keep on looking.'
'But aren't we all gonna die?' Rubenstein said, his voice starting to crack.
'All of humanity wiped out? I'm not plannin' on it.' At that, Rourke turned and continued walking, stopping a few yards further down what was left of the street in front of a partially burned building.
'Well-look at that,' Rourke said, pointing up at the sign above it.
' 'Geological Supplies,' 'Rubenstein read aloud.
'Yeah, looks like.' Rourke pushed against the door-all the glass was broken out-and the door moved in a foot. Reaching under his coat, he grabbed the Detonics from under his left arm and stepped through the door frame, Rubenstein close behind him.
'This place is in ruins.'
'Looks like, but let's see,' Rourke said. The floor of what had once been the store was covered with charred pieces of wood, broken glass, some half-burned small cardboard boxes. The fire, Rourke guessed, had burned through quickly.
The back portion of the shop was relatively untouched except for dark scorch-marks on the walls.
'Jees,' Rubenstein muttered.
