2
It was a long day for Angela. The slow going made her grit her teeth in frustration and curse aloud as she spent the entire morning creeping her way west. She squeezed through wherever she could, gently pushing dog houses, a dumpster, furniture, and cars aside, and it pained her to see whole blocks still decorated for the holiday that would never come.
The pavement everywhere was cracked, full of weeds and potholes, and she found herself listening for the hit that would give her the first flat tire of her journey. She began to ease through muddy yards to avoid the glass that littered the streets, and then berated herself for only making two miles in four hours. More than once, she found her way completely blocked and had to drive through fences and back yards, wincing at every snap of wood, plastic, and bone.
She felt very exposed as she traveled through the riot-ravaged towns that she had known before the War. Everything was so different, so dangerous, that she would never have recognized them if she hadn't been here before. Doubts about her ability to make the trip hit her hardest as she passed through Cheviot, Ohio. It scared her, shook her up more than dealing with Warren, and her dreams were filled with it when she finally slept.
Angela had tried to steel herself as she entered the city limits, sure it would be as bad as her own neighborhood, but it had been worse. She cried as she drove, tears blurring the awful scene, but not enough. The medical salve under her nose pushed back the stench, but again, not enough, and the gritty wind gusted harder.
Half of the buildings were gone, burned own to charred, blackened frames. Those that did remain, had no windows, no doors. The main street was crammed with abandoned cars and wrecks, but it was the dead that made her heart ache. There were so many! Had no one in this small city found safety?
Angela wiped at her eyes, steering carefully around the blackened shell of an Army transport truck, the driver's uniformed body still rotting inside. She sucked in a horrified breath as she cleared it, eyes drawn to what remained of the small municipal building.
Only the tall pillars still stood, the wide field of rubble behind it unrecognizable, and the tears came harder at the sight of so many who had represented authority decaying on those charred stone steps. Police, soldiers, and citizens lay in a tangled heap, the scene gruesome.
Fishtailing suddenly on the ice, Angela hit the brakes too sharply and slid on the slushy side street. Her front tires hit the curb hard enough to throw her against the seat, and the scare allowed her to get control of herself. She wiped her eyes again, just concentrating on the quiet rumble of her engine, and after a moment, felt better.