The Stranger raised his head, looking up to the Old Man. Asking him.
“How shall we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land? If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget her cunning. If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I refer not Jerusalem above my chief joy.”
Through watery, joy-filled eyes, he spread his small hands outward, upward, and expanded them across the map.
He means, ‘Where are we?,’ my friend.
The Old Man looked at the map and laid his finger over Flagstaff.
The Stranger placed one finger on Brooklyn and then stretched another finger on his other hand over Flagstaff.
For a long time he stared at the map.
Stared at the distance between the two points.
Stared at all the stories of his wanderings.
Some making a little more sense now.
Some coming to the surface after so many years on the road.
“Do you know of this ‘King Charlie’?” asked the Old Man.
The Stranger looked up from the map.
There was fear in his eyes.
He looked back to the map and studying it, drew his finger away from the west, following the map east. Following the once great Interstate 40. Then, at Albuquerque he went north, and after making a wide circle that reached all the way down into Texas he spoke.
“Hell from beneath is moved for thee to meet thee at thy coming: it stirreth up the dead for thee, even all the chief ones of the earth; it hath raised up from their thrones all the kings of the nations. All they shall speak and say unto thee, Art thou also become weak as we? Art thou become like unto us? Thy pomp is brought down to the grave, and the noise of thy viols: the worm is spread under thee, and the worms cover thee. How art thou fallen from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning! How art thou cut down to the ground, which didst weaken the nations! For thou hast said in thine heart, I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God: I will sit also upon the mount of the congregation, in the sides of the north: I will ascend above the heights of the clouds; I will be like the most High. Yet thou shalt be brought down to hell, to the sides of the pit. They that see thee shall narrowly look upon thee, and consider thee, saying, Is this the man that made the earth to tremble, that did shake kingdoms; that made the world as a wilderness, and destroyed the cities thereof; that opened not the house of his prisoners? All the kings of the nations, even all of them, lie in glory, every one in his own house. But thou art cast out of thy grave like an abominable branch, and as the raiment of those that are slain, thrust through with a sword, that go down to the stones of the pit; as a carcass trodden under feet. Thou shalt not be joined with them in burial, because thou hast destroyed thy land, and slain thy people: the seed of evildoers shall never be renowned.”
The Stranger looked at the Old Man and nodded slowly, placing his index finger over Colorado Springs.
Bad news for us, my friend.
Yes.
I think he is saying that King Charlie is the devil. And that the devil is in Colorado Springs.
Where I need to go.
“It would have to be that way,” muttered the Old Man to himself.
The Stranger took hold of the Old Man’s hand. His touch was warm and soft. He moved the hand down to Albuquerque and whispered, “Ted.”
“Ted?”
The Stranger nodded.
“Who is Ted?”
But the Stranger only smiled and nodded in the affirmative.
Whoever Ted is, he’s good. Or at least he has been to the Stranger.
And he thinks Ted will also be good to us.
Didn’t Conklin of the Dam say they’d heard there was someone who’d set up an outpost in ABQ as he called it? That they even had electricity?
Ted.
When the fueling was complete, the Old Man backed the tank out of the rickety framework of the ruin that had once been a gym and left the tank idling in the hot afternoon heat.
The Boy brought out an old weight bar he’d found in the shadows and dark of the gym.
“I can make this into a weapon,” he said as he passed the Old Man.
The Stranger motioned for the map once more. When it was opened and spread out on the hot pavement, the Stranger pointed toward the land that lay between Flagstaff and Albuquerque.
“They shall lay hold on bow and spear; they are cruel, and have no mercy; their voice roareth like the sea; and they ride upon horses, set in array as men for war against thee, O daughter of Zion.”
Then he pointed toward the sun overhead and shook his head. Making a fist, he pulled it down.
“You’re saying don’t cross this area in the daytime?”
The Stranger nodded.
Then held up one finger.
“In one night! You’re saying cross all this in one night? That’s a long journey, over bad roads!”
The Stranger nodded again.
“Who are these people?” asked the Old Man.
The Stranger looked about, leaned close, and then whispered, “Apache.”
Later, under the bridge, waiting for nightfall, the Old Man walked up the street. Toward the outpost that had been.
How can these Apache stop a tank?
Who knows? But this fellow thinks they’re dangerous enough to try. Or at least try and get you stuck, then wait you out.
Go in one night as quick as you can and it might prevent them from bringing their resources to bear. Surprise them.
But we could get stuck on the road in the night.
At the top of the hill, in the gritty crumbling parking lot of the hotel, the Old Man saw words written on the wall in a sickly green neon slop-paint.
Those words weren’t there yesterday.
Someone has passed through in the night and left a message for me.
Someone on a horse.
The Old Man wondered if this was the Fool thundering through the darkness on a horse too big for his gangling body, even now ahead of them, knowing where they are going, holding the stolen map in his claws.
And below that, as if addressed specifically to the Old Man, written in slop-paint strokes, was the word “
Chapter 39
At dusk they drove out from underneath the bridge and into the twilight. The dry leaves and fallen pine needles crunched under the dirt-clogged treads of the tank in the warm, early evening.
The Stranger watched them, waving slowly, his sad brown eyes sorry to see them go.
And…
Sorry for all that had happened to the world.
The Old Man looked down into the turret and saw the Boy who’d returned to staring into nothingness. He
