RPG:
It has been such a long while in doing the repair that many drivers of the convoy decided to take a bathroom break along the side of the road. Fernando was no exception, sometimes he forgets to go and hours later his body reminds him to go whether he likes it or not. At least it gives him a chance to look out to the stars and what is there in the skies. The slow moving lights tells him that blimps were in the air taking a slow short haul of connecting two points for a straight line. He keeps looking at the skies, noting the placement of the stars and the band of the galaxy, but for some reason, something was not right with the painted skyline above. He slowly heads back to his electric microbus. After 5 minutes he picks up his CB Microphone and dials it to the convoy's main frequency: Channel 14.
Quote:CB Channel 38 would be the Medical & Rescue group's agreed channel, though everyone needs to be on 14 for the main caravan communications - the group needs to switch to 38 as to not to tie up the main channel.
“Breaker, Breaker! This is The Prisoner seeking The General. General, you got your ears on?” Fernando says into the microphone, and waits for a reply.
A voice answers back, “What is it, Prisoner?”
“Just want to know what the set back is?” Fernando asks.
“We’re dealing with a minor problem before it becomes a major problem. That is all.” The voice answers back.
“I see. Back to monitoring the airways.” Fernando says.
“We’ll let everyone know when we are ready to roll.” The voice replies.
Though Fernando puts down his microphone, somebody else throws in “Thanks for letting us know.”
Fernando turns off half of the lights from his Bus/Ambulance to conserve energy as he waits for the convoy to move again. Being the last car on the line, he looks into his mirrors to see the road behind him before deciding to step out of the bus again. He walks to the rear of his bus and checks on his Dub box trailer, its hitch connection and its windows and doors. Everything is locked tight as it should. Looking at the road behind him there was little to see except for the glowing dome of lights of far away towns that speckle the landscape against the blackness of the night. He wonders why he got the Dub Box but the answer was obvious on many levels. It’s for living inside when not on the move and not when in town. With its reserve of food, water and supplies, he and Macie can hold out in the wild for a few weeks, and its insulated interior gives better protection against the environment than the bus which has minimal insulation. Though it is just in the low 50s in the mountain air, the heater and several blankets are needed to keep Macie and Meeshie warm as they sleep into the night inside the bus. Hunting and fishing equipment and added resources from the ambulance bus will extend their stay to survive months if needed.
But what gets to him is why so cheap, why have everyone they met been nice to him and the group. It’s as if the people around him are acting like they know him from before. General Jastrey has stated that they had met before when certain members of the group were older but yet in past years. Perhaps in their past meetings, business and other relationships have been established and continue on to this and knowing things that ‘we’ do not know. There are too many variables to maintain this as simple equation.
The convoy starts up again at slow rate. Fernando wonders if he could make the distance at this slow rate though he could flip switches and get the generator running to charge batteries while he is on another battery bank. He has more than enough power to make it but it would mean a longer time to recharge the batteries. He wonders about the liquid fuel vehicles as well, driving on first or second gear at this slow speed will just eat up gas. Though they can refuel and many have extra storage tanks filled with fuel to fill their tanks on, it means buying more fuel when they get to their destination. To converse on power, Fernando turns off the headlights and leaves the parking lights on.
Macey has been stirring in her bed more than before. She’s also talking in her sleep which she never done before in the known observable past. Fernando takes notice of this behavior to talk to her about it in the morning after they get to town. Right now he’ll chalk it up to ‘monsters being under the bed’ while he drives.
Radio chatter increases with complaints of the convoy being slow. In truth, the larger tank-track vehicles (the Kharkovchankas) have placed their snow and debris plows down to clear the road. At least they were able to clear out more than two lanes of roadway doing so. But this piles up the debris on what possible junked and abandoned vehicles left of the side of the road.
Almost 2 hour had passed and they finally get on the main road where the bridge was destroyed. On this side the bridge’s tower was intact as were the cables on this side and some of the roadway going to it, but it was obvious that after that the road ends to nothingness past the tower. Some cheer, others make their disappointment known over the air. It was still a 2 hour trip to fight Town from there. No way are they going to make up almost 5 hours of lost time even though the Kharkovchankas pick up their snow/debris plows and increase their speed.
“Scout Leader to Scouts 2 and 3, follow me! And switch it upstairs!” a voice on the CB says out loud, noting that the motorcycles are going ahead of the convoy to check out road conditions and change the frequency to a secure channel.
Fernando looks at his speedometer as they gain speed on the road, shifting into third gear where he thought necessary. He thinks about a lot of things and calculates the time it is going to take for them to get there. He is figuring that it will be well into the daylight hours when they get into town. As far as he knows that poses a problem for at least one driver: Mavis. He’s seen her wrapped up tighter than a mummy to protect her from the sun but she had time to prepare for that. In the here and now she would have to pull over, stop their part of the convoy and prepare herself for daytime activity before continuing onward with the convoy. But in the end, he figures it does not matter. When they get there, they will get there. The condition they will be in is the main question of concern.
Another two hours of driving, and another stop. This time it’s an engine break down of one of the seller’s vehicles. Not a problem for them as another vehicle will act as a tow truck to get them to where they are going but setting this up takes some time to do so. Fernando steps out of his electric camper, looking out down the length of the line of vehicles he can see where they are working on near the very end of the front of the line. Hondo steps out of his truck and steps up to Fernando.
“Another effen delay...” Hondo states.
“We will get there when we get there. And we got business to take care of when we get there.” Fernando tells him.
Hondo growls slightly, holding much if it in as possible. Fernando looks at stars for a moment, positioning them in his mind as per time of day, season, and monthly date. But things do not seem right to him.
“This world is so wrong, not even the stars are right.” Fernando says to himself.
“How so?” Hondo asks.
“Just look.” Fernando points out. “According to the compass, North is that way. But Polaris is over there as are the Two Dippers. The Milky Way is all wrong and where’s Cassiopeia and Pieces. Taurus, Orion, Sirius and Lupus are towards the horizon but they should not be there at all.”
Hondo looks at the skies for a moment. “If the poles shifted, that can account for the compass being wrong. Same if this area is high in various metals that can make magnetite, which it is. There are other reasons too; this area is known for where homing pigeons get lost.” He begins to explain, adding, “But for the stars, I cannot explain that. Jefe.”
“This time of year one should be able to see the Summer Triangle above the horizon, but it is not there.” Fernando adds. He then points out to a dome of light far in the horizon, “That should be Fight Town.”
“That’s still about 100 miles or more.” Hondo complains.
“A hundred miles, or about 3 or so hours, I’ll take it.” Fernando points out.
‘HMPH-*!” Hondo replies shortly before the blaring sounds of the horns of the caravan signal that it is about to move again.
“Hopefully we’ll see each other in town.” Fernando tells him before trotting over to his electric camper.
“Yeah...” Hondo mumbles to himself before stepping into his truck.
Almost a minute passes before the last vehicles on the line begin to move onward.