“I know that,” he said.
One of the men called out, “Is that more of them, Pyle?”
“Looks that way,” Pyle replied. “Just not sure which ones.” He lowered the rifle. “You can put down your hands. I see the uniform. Though I’m not familiar with IRM.” Pyle referenced the patch on Merks’s jumpsuit uniform. “Merks? Does it say?”
“Merks is my last name. Commander Robert Merks,” he answered. “IRM stands for International Robinson Mission.”
“Not familiar with that either, maybe our leader is. This way.” Pyle signaled his men to go forward while he stayed close to Merks and Pusk, leading them through the woods.
It wasn’t long before they reached the wall that Pusk had mentioned. It was constructed out of trees, and when Merks saw it he looked up. “This is taller than twenty feet.”
“Makes you think of King Kong,” she replied in a whisper.
“I didn’t want to be the one to say it.”
Pyle whistled loud and short, and a portion of the wall slid open like a gate.
There were several people just inside who watched them walk in. Merks could see the village in the distance, smoke from chimneys rising up.
As they walked a bit further a man hurried to them. He looked to be in his sixties and in good shape. He carried something in his hand and Merks could see that the man smiled.
But as soon as the man was close enough, the smile dropped from his face and was replaced with a look of disappointment.
“This is our leader,” Pyle said.
“Why do you introduce me like that,” the man said. “I’m sorry. I…saw the craft fly over and the blue streak, I thought for sure…I thought for sure you were someone I knew. I even brought him something.”
“Who…who did you think we were?” Merks asked.
“The Robinson.”
“We are,” Merks replied.
“Well…is Tucker Freeman alright?”
Pusk let out a short laugh. “He’s fine. You know Tucker? Sorry, I know that’s not funny, but a desolate, changed Earth, God knows how far in the future…”
“For you guys, a hundred and forty-two years,” he said.
“Christ,” Merks gasped.
Pusk found it even more amusing. “Over a hundred years into the future and one of the first people we meet knows Tucker? How is that possible?”
“Long story,” the man answered. “I was convinced he was here. I even”—he held up the container—“brought him milk. It’s a…it’s an inside joke.”
“You can put that away for now,” Merks said, “and give it to him later. He’s on another scouting team.”
“I will. And I’m sorry, I didn’t introduce myself.” He held out his hand. “Joshua. Joshua Quinn. We left Earth the same time as you. I’m the commander of the Genesis project.”
<><><><>
“Did I ever tell you,” Sam spoke slightly out of breath as he and Tucker walked, “I’m not a physical person?” Walking was understating. Since leaving the buggy, they climbed over things, through things, and once under.
“This isn’t physical,” Tucker said with a chuckle.
“You don’t think?”
“We’ve only been walking twenty minutes. You’re funny.”
“I’m serious. It’s been years since I did anything physical. I’m a desk guy. I use a JAXA discontinued Robot Max to get my beverages from the fridge at home and sweep my floors.”
“So funny, I’m surprised you didn’t pack him.”
Sam stopped walking.
“You did?” Tucker laughed even harder. “You packed your housekeeper.”
“It was a pretty brilliant invention,” Sam said. “Four feet tall, light weight. Just because it tried to kill someone once…once, they scrapped it.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Okay, you know what? I have to stop.” Sam bent over slightly grabbing his knees.
“We’re almost there. I know we’re close. In fact, you’ll get a kick out of this.”
“I doubt it.”
“You and I, we’re about ten feet from a road. Well, what’s left of one. Bet it’ll be easier to walk.”
“We’ve been walking on the side of a road?”
“Yeah.”
“I hate you,” Sam said. “How do you know?”
“Well, aside from the fact I can see it sort of, this…” Tucker stomped his foot causing a ‘thunk’ sound.
“What the hell was that?”
“A sign. Not like…oh, a heavenly sign, but a sign. Look.” Tucker pointed down.
How he even saw it, Sam didn’t know. It was completely buried, all but a tiny bit of a rusted corner emerging from the ground, along with part of the metal post. Erosion or a storm had probably brought it to the surface.
“This way.” Tucker led the way up the small grade. “No more physical walking. Well, one more time. I think this used to be a guardrail.” He felt through the brush. “Yes, it is. But let me clear it for you.”
Tucker pulled branches and weeds creating a small enough opening for Sam to climb over.
On the other side of the rail, Tucker waited for Sam.
Sam stumbled a bit as he climbed from the other side of the guardrail. “Why do you look so tall?” Sam asked.
“That’s because I am.”
“You’re not that tall.” Sam held out his hand for Tucker to help him over. As soon as he cleared the rail, he realized why Tucker looked so tall. The road on the other side had grown over or lifted so much it was nearly even with the rail.
“Man, you really aren’t physical,” Tucker said.
“I’m tired from walking and climbing. I think I need an energy bar or something.”
“They don’t really give you energy. We can stop if you want. I think it’s a straight shot now to where we’re heading.”
Sam stood there looking around. If it was a highway, it was lumpy. But they weren’t lumps or mounds, they were cars. Nature had encompassed and devoured them until they became part of the landscape. “Cars. We’re walking on cars.”
“Looks like an exodus,” Tucker replied. “Did you want to stop, you didn’t say.”
“How far do you think we are?” Sam asked.
Tucker pointed outward. “See for yourself.”
Sam looked. “Holy shit. Holy…fucking shit.”
“That’s your Planet of the Apes moment, isn’t it?” Tucker asked.
“Yeah, yeah it is,” Sam replied. “Is that yours, too?”
“Nah, but I’ll let you know when I see it.”
“I think I need to pause.” Sam set
