Black Sun by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 45

Ryan was awakened by the gentle touch of Abby's insistent hands. No longer feeling the sickness that had nearly taken her life, her soul became flooded with passion, and Ryan was neither able nor willing to refuse her advance. As the day closed in, both found themselves undressing each other, primed for something they had not participated in for a few days. Ryan soon found it clear that when Abby's needs were not attended to, she became something of an animal, and he quickly gave himself to her fiery demands.

Time came to a standstill as Ryan and Abby elevated each other to a place they had not been for some time and by the time they caught their breath, the darkness of night had achieved its fullness. It was time to go. Before leaving, they searched the camping store for warmer clothing. It was early summer and while the days were growing warmer, the nights were frigid, and they needed to be prepared for traveling in the cold. Ryan preferred wool and goose down for maximum warmth. They packed some bottled water that had been recovered from the drug store Abby had visited earlier and made their way to the entrance, once closed off by the tempered glass now lying in fragments on the sidewalk. Before reaching the highway, Ryan made a careful examination of the map he had stored in the top pocket of his backpack, being certain that they were going in the right direction and on the correct route.

Everything was soon in order and leaving the mall, Abby immediately noticed a cool breeze gently caressing her face. Taking a deep breath of the night air, she remarked on the sensation it left her with.

“Holy fuck, that is incredible. Do you smell that?” In the absence of human activity, the air had become clean and sweet. Taking in the several deep breaths, both began to experience a slight light-headedness that, under the circumstances, neither was accustomed to. But this soon passed, and they continued on their way, leaving Albany within roughly an hour. Ryan considered stopping in Colonie, but he realized that people tend to congregate in places that provide shelter. Instead, he chose route ninety, allowing them to bypass places where other survivors might be hidden in the shadows.

Their next stop was Amsterdam. However, they would skirt numerous other cities on the way. Having grown up in that part of New York, Ryan knew that where they were going was not the safest place to be. Before the world was sent into darkness, Amsterdam was known for gang violence and as unfortunate as it may be, Ryan hoped that the disaster that had killed so many people had also quelled the city’s thirst for blood. With this in mind, he decided well ahead of time that they would not be spending a great deal of time there – an overnight, at best. The walk would be long and arduous, and pain would quickly become the nemesis of both of them.

“So, how long do you think it’ll take for us to get there?” Abby asked.

She was already becoming impatient and with so much distance yet to cover, Ryan took a moment to remind her that it would likely take days. But this did not stop her from inquiring further. “Where are we going again?”

Her question was understandable. She was not familiar with Fulton County and had somehow forgotten where Ryan said they were going.

“Well,” he began. “At first, I thought we’d go to my hometown. But then I remembered that Gloversville, basically, turned into a shithole. When I was a kid, there were thirty thousand people living there. Now, there’s only fifteen thousand. In another twenty years, everyone will be gone and Gloversville will become a ghost town. So, I thought we’d go to Johnstown instead.”

“Why Johnstown?” Abby asked.

She was curious about what lay ahead for them and wanted to know more about Ryan’s origins. Having not been there for several years, Ryan paused as he tried to formulate an answer. “Why?” he began. “I guess because it’s closer, and we’ll be within easy reach of whatever we need. And we’ll probably be able to find a nice house to live in. What do you think?” A broad smile of approval came to Abby’s face. “That sounds really nice,” she replied. “As long as we can find some weed.”

“Well,” Ryan said. “I can’t guarantee anything, so you might have to do without it.”

A touch of disappointment briefly overtook her. She certainly did enjoy her weed, and still carried almost an ounce in her pack. She quickly realized that she wherever they ended up, she would have to conserve.

“I guess,” she replied.

The conversation quickly gave way to the painful silence of the night as the moon rose high in the star-strewn sky. Winter would eventually be upon them, but with summer heating up, the air was rapidly growing warmer. Pausing for only a moment, they zipped their jackets up against the cold and pulled their hoods over their heads. The camping store turned out to be an enormous blessing.

They continued their quiet journey along the moonlit highway, heading north-east to what Ryan hoped would be a bastion of safety. But as quick as their steps were, both knew that dawn would, sooner or later, begin to fill the morning sky, and they would have to find a place to stop. The beauty of this way of traveling was that it would be unlikely that they would encounter other survivors, ensuring them safe passage from one place to another. Under the black sky of a new moon, their presence might very well fade into invisibility, unseen by even the most sensitive eyes. But for now, they continued walking with little to no conversation as requested by Ryan, using the reasoning that when night falls dust tends to settle, causing sound to travel farther and clearer. The last thing they needed was to attract attention at a time when people could act without consequences or remorse.

With a steady pace, they walked about a mile every fifteen minutes. After an hour and a half, Abby inquired as to where they would stay once the sun began to rise. “I don't know,” replied Ryan. “I guess it depends on where we are at dawn.”

This was little comfort to Abby. She liked predictability and a structured environment, providing her with a sense of security. So being out, seemingly, in the middle of nowhere, walking along a highway in the middle of the night was not her idea of security. Pressing on, they entered the northern area of the Albany Pine Bush Preserve. This area was home to the Karner Blue butterfly, one of the rarest in the world, displaying dark blue wings and roughly as big as the palm of one's hand. The preserve was divided down the middle by Route 90 with sand dunes stretched out on either side. Abby stopped in the middle of the road, peering through the darkness in an attempt to see how big the preserve was.

“Do you think we could camp here?” she asked. As cold as the temperature got during the day, Ryan felt it was unrealistic to even consider bunking down in a place that looked like a desert.

“I don't think it's a good idea,” he replied. “I'd rather find someplace indoors where it might be a bit cooler. But out here, in all this sand? I just don't think it's a good idea.” Abby took a moment to realize the results of such a foolish idea and quickly agreed. But she was still curious as to where Ryan planned to stop.

“So, what city are we coming up to?” she asked. Ryan knew the area and if his memory was accurate Rotterdam would be the next large town but getting there required hours of walking and with daylight soon approaching, finding shelter was becoming critical. He knew they would never get to their goal before dawn. It was simply too far to walk. But there were other places they could stop, places that were smaller but could still offer food as well as a warmer place to escape the warm summer air.

About an hour and a half after leaving the preserve, Ryan spotted the Guilderland Travel Plaza off to the left. It seemed perfect, offering food, water, restrooms, and an out-of-the-way place to get some sleep, away from the summer heat. Pointing it out to Abby, he noticed an obvious expression of excitement on her face. As a former college student, she certainly wasn't accustomed to a luxurious life, but one thing she thought was necessary was a bed. Although it had not been long since leaving Albany, Abby already missed the comfort of her bed. Yet, not once did she regret leaving Albany and hoped that wherever they went would be free of violence. After being assaulted, she had quickly developed a fear of confrontation and was in no hurry for history to repeat itself.