“Let’s go,” Marie said.
Harvey drove on. There was no water above the bridge now. That water was on its way into the San Joaquin Valley. He drove across the bridge, and was surprised to see a big truck coming toward him. It stopped just at the far end of the bridge. Two big men got out. They stared as Harvey drove past them. One started to shout something, then shrugged.
Up ahead there was another bridge out. That decided it: Harvey had to detour past the entrance to Senator Jellison’s place.
And where better to learn what was happening in the mountains? For that matter, where would they go once they found the boys? Marie hadn’t thought past the moment of finding Bert and Andy. Neither had Harvey until now, but…
But this was perfect. The scout troop would have to come past the Jellison place.
And Maureen would be there.
Harvey despised himself for thinking of her. Loretta’s face swam in front of him, and the vision of a body wrapped in an electric blanket. He slowed to a stop.
“Why are we — ” Before Marie could finish there was an explosion behind them, then another.
“What the hell” Harvey started the car again. Remorse was replaced by fear. Explosions? Had they wandered into a range war or something? He drove ahead, while Joanna and Marie craned to look back.
Mark whipped the bike into a U-turn and drove back the way they’d come. He waved as he went past.
“Damn fool curiosity will kill him yet,” Joanna said.
Harvey shrugged. He could stand not knowing, but it would be nice to find out. Up ahead, a couple of miles, not far at all, was the turnoff. Then safety, refuge, rest.
He drove slowly, and he’d just reached the Senator’s drive when he saw Mark coming up behind him. He pulled to a stop.
“That bridge,” Mark said.
“Yeah?”
“The one we came over,” Mark said. “Those two dudes just blew it. Dynamite, I think. They dropped it at both ends. Harvey, a half-hour later and we’d be stranded back there.”
“Two minutes later,” Joanna said, “and we’d have been looking up at a million tons of water. We — Harv, we can’t keep lucking out like this.”
“It takes luck,” Harvey said. “In combat, here, luck’s as important as brains. But we won’t need any more for awhile. I’m going in there.” He waved toward the Senator’s drive.
“Why?” Marie demanded, ready for war.
“Road conditions. Information.” Harvey drove on to the gate. It was only just coming to him — it had never occurred to him, not for an instant — that a master of television documentaries might not be welcome at a politician’s home.
He got out to open the gate.
There was a car parked inside. A young man got out and wearily came to the TravelAII. “Your business?” he inquired. He eyed Joanna and the shotgun, showed his empty hands. “Me, I’m not armed. But my partner’s where you can’t see him, and he’s got a scope-sighted rifle.”
“We’ll be no trouble,” Harvey said. The man had seen the NBS markings on the TravelAII — and he hadn’t been impressed. “Can you get a message up to the big house?”
“Depends on the message. Might.”
Harvey had thought it through. “Tell Maureen Jellison that Harvey Randall is here with three dependents.”
The man looked thoughtful. “Well, you got the names right. She expecting you?”
Harvey laughed. It struck him as insanely funny. He leaned against the fender and chortled, he put a hand on the man’s arm and got control of his voice and said, “From Los Angeles?” and lost it again.
The man withdrew a little. His large red face blanked out. There were things he didn’t want to know. But — the Senator had told the meeting he’d like to talk to someone who’d seen what happened to L.A. And this city man did know the Senator’s name, and Maureen’s as well.
As suddenly as it had been funny, suddenly it wasn’t. Harvey stopped laughing. “Maureen must think I’m dead. She’ll be glad to know different.” Or will she? Shazam! “I know she’ll want to talk to me. Tell her I want to… never mind.” He’d been about to say he wanted to talk about galactic empires, and that wasn’t the right thing to say at all.
The man looked thoughtful. Finally he nodded. “Okay, I guess I can do that. But you wait right here. I mean right here, understand? And don’t get gay with that shotgun.”
“We don’t want to shoot anybody. I just want to talk to Maureen.”
“Okay. Right there. I’ll be a while.” He went to the car, locked it and walked up the driveway.
Walked. Saving gasoline already. Yes, the Senator had his place organized. Harvey went back to the TravelAII. Marie tried to say something; he cut through her voice with practiced ease. “Spread the map.”
She thought it over, then did it. Harvey let his forefinger do the talking. “The scouts are in this area. The only route out is right past here. They don’t have to worry about these dams — here, and here — because they don’t have to stay on the road. We do, or else we walk. We’re not equipped to walk it.”
Marie thought that over. She glanced at her boots and fingered her jacket. She was ready to walk, and so was Harvey, but it made sense. Certainly if they had to walk, a few hours wouldn’t make any difference.
“So we wait here?” Joanna asked.
Mark stuck his head in at the window. “Sure, this is Senator Jellison’s place. Thought I recognized it. Harv, that was smart, sending a message to the Senator’s daughter instead of him.”
“Wait,” Marie said. “How long?”
“Christ, how the hell do I know?” Harvey exploded. “As long as they’ll let us. This ranch is organized, have you noticed? And they’ve got food; that guard wasn’t hungry. We’d like to feed the boys when they get here. Not to mention ourselves.”
Marie nodded in submission.
“The trouble is,” Harvey continued, “how do we get them to let us in? Blowing up that bridge might have been a subtle hint that they aren’t welcoming refugees in this valley. We have to be useful, which means we promise to do whatever they want us to do, and no goddam arguments about it. Marie, don’t blow this for us. We’re beggars here.”
He waited for that to sink in before turning to Joanna. “That applies to your shotgun. I don’t know if you noticed the subtle hand motions of that guy who stopped us, but he was doing strange things with his hand. His left hand. I expect sticking him up wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“I knew that,” Joanna said.
“Yes.” Harvey turned to Mark. “Let me do the talking.” Mark looked hurt. Who’d got Harvey out of his bedroom and across the state, all the way up here? But he stood in the rain, water running off his jacket and into his boots, and waited in silence.
“Company coming,” Mark said finally. He pointed up the drive.
Three men on horseback, wearing yellow slickers and rain hats. One didn’t ride very well. He clung grimly to the horse. When he came closer, Harvey recognized Al Hardy, Jellison’s administrative assistant and political hatchet man.
Hatchet man, Harvey thought. That might be more literally true here than it had been in Washington.
Hardy dismounted and handed the reins to one of the mounted men. He came over to the TravelAII and peered inside. “Hello, Mr. Randall,” he said.
“Hello.” Harvey waited tensely.
“Who are these people?” He looked closely at Marie, but didn’t say anything.
Hardy had met Loretta only once, months ago, Harvey thought. When? A long time, anyway. And Marie Vance never, but he knew she wasn’t Loretta. A good memory for names and faces goes with the job of political adviser…