Now, placing his pistol on the seat, Ben chugged around the knot of vehicles. He would be damned if he were staying there until the cops showed up. They’d haul him in for questioning.
Even if they eventually let him go, it could cost him days he couldn’t spare.
There was barely enough room for Semper Fi to squeeze through the cars. He almost scraped her trailer on a building.
Then he was past and he rumbled down the block to the next intersection.
Ben had a long way to go to get out of the city. He was down by the bay, near the aquarium and Waterfront Park. He needed to get to 90 east. Either he got on Interstate 5 and took 5 to where it merged with 90, or he stuck to the back streets. He figured the interstate would be jammed with people fleeing the city, so the back streets it was.
Not five blocks later he regretted his decision. Fourth Avenue was bumper to bumper and the overflow was spilling into the side arteries as everyone and their grandmother sought to bypass the jam. Since he didn’t care to be boxed in, he wheeled into an alley and barreled down it. A Dumpster blocked his way, but Semper Fi knocked it aside with careless ease.
At the next street Ben turned. He wasn’t sure which one he was on but he was heading in the right direction. Now and then he glimpsed the bridge.
Ben switched on the radio to the all-news station. The announcer was saying something about a nuclear strike on San Diego. Ben only caught the tail end of the story. Then came an account of the Vatican going up in radioactive dust. China supposedly had declared war on the West.
Ben shook his head. He’d known it would come to something like this. The human race was that stupid. He wouldn’t put it past homo sapiens to totally wipe themselves out.
A stop sign necessitated tromping on the brakes. Ben craned his neck to scan the next street—and his passenger door abruptly flung open. Instantly, Ben had a Double Eagle in his hand. He pointed it, but didn’t shoot. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The girl looked to be all of sixteen. She wore scruffy clothes—scruffy by Ben’s standards, but then he was old school—and had pink streaks in her black hair. She wore a nose ring and at least ten earrings in one ear. Her eyes weren’t blue and they weren’t green but some sort of in-between. “I need a lift.”
“Not with me.”
“Come on, mister. I don’t own wheels, and I want out before it gets really bad.”
“No. Slam the door on your way down.”
“No, yourself.” Incredibly, the girl climbed in. She shut the door and clasped her hands on her lap. “Ready when you are.”
“The hell,” Ben said. He didn’t know whether to laugh or be mad. “Don’t your ears work? Get your scrawny white ass out of my rig, and I mean now.”
“You better get going or we’ll get stuck here when it hits the fan.” She smiled and held out a hand. “I’m Space, by the way.”
“Space?” Ben repeated, despite himself.
“Yeah, I know. My real name is Geraldine, but I hate it. It’s bogus. My great-grandmother or someone had it so my mom decided to honor her by giving me the name. Lame, lame, lame.
Anyway, when I was little, I was into stars and stuff. You know, astronomy. I liked it so much, my dad used to tease me and called me Spacey and somehow that got shortened to Space and here I am and here we are and you’re wasting time.”
“The hell,” Ben said again.
“Are you catching flies? You really need to get your act together. If you want me out you’ll have to throw me out, and I promise I’ll scream and kick.” Space reached out and tapped the Double Eagle. “And either use this or stop waving it in my face.
You look silly.”
To Ben’s amazement, he lowered the pistol. “Listen, girl. I’m serious. I can’t take you with me.”
“Why not?” Space gazed about the cab. “It’s not as if you don’t have the room. Hell, this is the Ritz compared to some of the boxes I’ve slept in.”
“Boxes?”
“Why do you repeat everything I say? Yeah, boxes. I live on the street a lot. And when you have no money and you don’t want to sleep in the gutter, you find a box and crawl in. Boxes are everywhere. The big ones are comfortable enough, but the small ones are cramped. And some stink. And when it rains, well, a box ain’t for shit, know what I mean?”
“Damn, girl.”
“Can you please get this monster going? If a missile hits we’ll be fried and I so don’t want to go out as a piece of toast.”
“Where are your parents?”
Space sighed in exasperation. “I just told you I live on the street. Do you think if I had parents they’d let me do that?”
“Everyone has parents,” Ben persisted. “Either they’re dead or you’re a runaway or they threw you out because they couldn’t take the motormouth.”
Space had a nice grin. “Okay. You got me there. I run off at the mouth a lot. But it’s me, you know? I start talking and I can’t stop. There are worse things. Like starting to drink and you can’t stop. Or taking drugs and you can’t stop. Not that I haven’t never drank or never taken drugs, but I can stop both of them with no problem.”
Ben set the pistol down, close to his leg. “I must be nuts.”
“You’re taking me, then?” Space beamed and clapped and bounced up and down. “Super. I wasn’t sure if you’d be nice or if you’d be
