JR snorted. “After that wreck we avoided back in North Dakota and that mess at Lewistown, I’m content to poke along and let the crazies fly low around us. Mike and Marlene are prime examples of what that crazy driving can cause. Add them to the dozens of serious wrecks we’ve witnessed along the highway and it gives new insight to the words foolish and crazy.”
“But don’t forget scared too.”
Sam drove another forty miles before JR commented, “Have you noticed the last four small towns we passed all appear to be without power. No lights in houses or businesses and even the neon advertising signs are off. And no people are out and about. The populations in each can’t be over a few hundred people, but now the towns look like ghost towns.”
Sam nodded grimly. “I’m not surprised. Power plants are running out of fuel and employees are leaving the area. The plants are probably either shutting down or cutting back on distribution to sparsely populated areas. And with the power shut off, all other provided services went with it. There’s nothing left for most people except to leave. And like me and the survivalist I followed, they mostly plan to go north through Canada and then further north to the Yukon or Alaska.”
As they entered Great Falls, power was out to the entire city.
Sam said, “That means no fuel can be pumped, no food is available, and all motels are closed unless they have emergency generators. Most motels look abandoned and doors on several of the offices stood open as if they’d been forced open and broken into. The entire town looks deserted. Few people were visible on the streets and the few I saw were in vehicles”.
JR looked at the map. "We're only about one hundred miles from the Canadian border. Most people are probably backed up at the crossing or trying to hike across.” She studied the route. “The map shows our Route 200 as a scenic route, so it’s likely to be hilly and have some tight turns before long. We’ll have to not use the cruise control if the hills and valleys are steep. That will slow our progress considerably and burn more fuel."
They stopped at a fuel station in Lincoln because electric lights were turned on. As Sam pumped fuel, a city police officer stopped to chat. “There have been intermittent power disruptions on the West Coast Power Grid. Most of the West Coast generating stations were shut down because of zombie attacks on personnel. As employee numbers dwindled the stations became unreliable with crews working double shifts and longer, so generators were taken off-line. Plus, there’re few craftsmen to repair maintenance failures at the plants or on the distribution networks. The situation is dire; we expect to lose power permanently at any time. My wife is packed, and we’ll head north like everyone else when that happens.”
Sam said, “I guess you know the Canadian border is closed. No one is allowed to cross. At Minot, North Dakota, traffic trying to cross the border was backed up twenty miles when we were there, and it’s likely stalled all the way back to Minot by now.
“And be careful if you intend to walk across the border. A trucker told us civilians are manning the border between legal crossing sites and shooting anyone they see.” The officer exhaled and shook his head. “I won’t tell my wife that; she’s terrified already. Looks like the Canadians are as scared as we are and just want to protect themselves.”
“I understand their fear, but where is their compassion for humans who want to live as much as they do?” Sam finished fueling, then wished the officer well.
They ate, not because they were hungry, but because prepared food was available. It could be their last restaurant meal. Unfortunately, the quality was barely passable, far from memorable. Despite the miserable quality of the food and service, Sam left a generous tip simply because he had thousands of excess dollars. Afterward they jogged on a deserted street to a small park area to exercise Smokey. JR noticed several weathered bronze plaques set in granite. “Look at these, Sam.”
She read the first one aloud. “April 3, 1996, Federal officers arrested Theodore John Kaczynski at his remote cabin five miles from Lincoln under suspicion of being the "Unabomber", a political terrorist and survivalist who placed pressure-sensitive bombs inside mailed packages. The bombing campaign resulted in three deaths and twenty-three people wounded. Kaczynski is currently serving eight life sentences without the possibility of parole.”
Sam added, “Yeah I remember reading about him. He’s at the US Supermax Security Facility called ADX in Florence, Colorado, serving a whole bunch of life sentences.” They moved to the next plaque.
“This next plaque is about a place named Roger's Pass. It’s fifteen miles east of Lincoln. It’s known for being the location of the coldest recorded temperature in the contiguous United States. On January 20, 1954, a temperature of −70 degrees Fahrenheit was recorded.”
“And that,” Sam intoned, “is your history lesson for today. I noticed several motels are closed. Some have plywood that looks new covering the windows. Apparently those people think the zombies will blow over and they’ll be able to return soon. I wish they were right, but I doubt they are.”
JR asked, “Are we ready to move on? Smokey had enough exercise for now.”
“Yeah, we may as well, we’ve only driven about one hundred seventy-five miles since leaving Lewistown this morning. The attendant at the gas station said the tanks are running low and no deliveries are scheduled. Getting water in our
