“What was that? From the Bible?”
“You don’t know the Good Book when you hear it? Of course it’s from the Bible. Revelation 6:17 I know it front to back and back to front.” Stiggims grew solemn again. ” ‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse. And the name of him who sat on it was Death, and Hell followed with him.’”
“Mr. Stiggims,” Diana said, and caught herself. “Amos. Please.
Listen to me. Holding me here against my will is illegal.”
“There are none so blind,” Stiggims said sadly.
Diana tried another tack. “It’s not the end of the world. It’s a war. World War Three. Millions will perish, but the world will go on. People will survive. You stand a good chance of living through it, living where you do.”
“It’s no use. I have my mind made up. I was sitting in that rocking chair thinking about how awful it was to go to perdition by my lonesome when you dropped out of the sky into my lap. I took that as a sign.”
“Please. I have somewhere I need to be.”
“You’re darn right you do. My barn.” Stiggims wagged the knife. “There’s a small room in the back I use for tools and such. I can bar it, and there ain’t any windows.” He paused. “Or better yet, maybe I should put you in the root cellar.”
“What about you? Where will you be?” “I’ll stay up here until the missiles start to fly. Then I’ll join you.”
“I’m sorry,” Diana said. “That’s unacceptable.” She lunged, shoving him hard enough to spill him onto his backside on the porch. Whirling, she ran through the living room and into a small kitchen. The stench of rotten food assailed her as she raced to a back door and flung it open. Beyond was a yard and a cornfield, the stalks as tall as she was. Leaping down a short flight of steps, she sped toward them.
“Get her, boy! Attack! Attack!”
Diana looked back. Hercules was
after her.
Eve of Destruction
Washington
Ben Thomas’s idea was to take Interstate 90 all the way across Washington and Idaho into Montana and then take Interstate 94
into northern Minnesota.
Things went fine as far as Spokane. They were able to get gas. He was careful not to let his fuel drop below half so he always had plenty to spare. Traffic wasn’t the pain he expected it to be. A lot of folks were holed up in their homes, awaiting the next development in the spreading global conflict.
Space drove him nuts using the radio. She was constantly running up and down the dial looking for stations with the latest news. He almost told her to stop—but when she was playing with the radio she was usually preoccupied and quiet, and there was only so much of her chatter he could take. The girl about talked his head off.
It was as they were pulling out of Ellensburg that Space told Ben about her parents. Her father had been an alcoholic, her mother a druggie. When they hadn’t been abusing each other, they had been abusing her. She had taken it until she was twelve and then she skipped. She had gone to live with an aunt who had always treated her nicely, but the aunt had a son her age who thought she was the hottest treat on two legs and couldn’t keep his hands off her. So Space had skipped again and wound up living on the street.
“It wasn’t bad at first. I had a little money so I could eat. I found a condemned building and lived in a room with a lock on the door so I could sleep safe at night. I stayed away from other street people. The few who knew I was hiding there left me alone. But the good vibes didn’t last. They never do.”
“Why didn’t you go to the state for help? They could have found you a foster home.”
“Would you want to live with people you didn’t know? People who might have hang-ups of their own?” Space shook her head and her bangs swished. “No, I figured I was better off on my own. Even when the money ran out and I had to make do any way I could.”
“You started turning tricks?”
Space cackled in glee and slapped her leg. “Only a man would think of that before anything else. I’m no skank. My body is mine, and making it with strangers isn’t my idea of fun.” She shook her head again. “1 mainly stole to live. At first it was food.
I’d go into a grocery store and stick stuff down my skirt.”
Ben had been meaning to ask about her clothes. She wore all black, like one of those Goths. “What if the food fell out before you made it out the door?”
“I wore my skirt inside out so the pocket was on the inside. I’d slip whatever I stole into the pocket and waltz out with no one the wiser. Bur I could only take small stuff, and that was a drag.
After a couple of hundred candy bars, the sweets aren’t as sweet.
Know what I mean?”
“I don’t eat candy much.”
“You will if there’s nothing else you can get your hands on. I ate candy and I ate a lot of fruit. Bananas, mostly. It was easy to slip one into my pocket. I’m partial to pretzels, too. I’d open a bag and grab a handful. You wouldn’t believe how easy it was.”
“It’s nothing to be proud of,” Ben remarked. He wasn’t a stickler for the law, but there were some things he would never do and stealing was one of them.
“Listen to you, Mr. Never Gone Hungry a Day in his Life.
When your belly hurts from not eating, when you’re so starved your skin is sticking to your ribs, you’ll do whatever you have to.
It’s all about survival.”
“I was a Marine, girl. And I’m black, besides. I know more about surviving than you’ll ever learn.”
“Oh, please.
