wonder. "Wow," he said. "Would you look at that!"
"Amazing, isn't it?" Joel said. "It's not many years that get this kind of bloom."
Robert looked at him, a searching look on his face. "I heard you guys are Christian?"
"Yes, Lexington and I are," Joel said.
Robert whooped and did a little jig. "Sorry, but between that and seeing this great big, wide open Creation for a change, it's almost too much. I'm possibly the last Christian left over here. It's bad around here."
"We noticed," Trevin said. "Where's this buggy?"
Robert grinned even more broadly, and led the way to what had been an earthen produce shed. The buggy hidden inside it was a strange looking contraption, the frame made of metal tubes, the engine oversized and uncovered. The wheels were huge, to get the belly of the thing high enough to drive through low scrub. On the front was a bush chopper, tough enough to tackle sagebrush that was a little too tall (the really big stuff they were going to have to avoid). There were two seats, with five-point harnesses to keep the passengers in, and a platform behind, either to strap cargo to, or for additional passengers to stand on, if they were crazy enough to trust to being able to hang onto the roll bar as they bounced over rough terrain.
"She's not pretty, but she's what we have," Robert said.
"I consider her gorgeous, considering the circumstances," Trevin said. Joel seconded the sentiment.
Robert peeked in the fuel tank. "Full, for a change," he reported. He checked oil, and air filter, and tires. "Oh, good. Usually I have to do mechanics before I take her out. I guess no one's driven her since I did. Oh, before we go, let me check one more thing," he said. He went to a back wall, and pushed on a few panels. Finally he found the one he was looking for. It opened, letting him get his hand through to a latch. He swung open a hidden door and went through, hunted around by flashlight, and came triumphantly out with a haphazard assortment of vacuum packed food, from smoked fish to peach chutney to mixed vegetables. "It's not what I'd ordinarily offer guests for breakfast, but it's food," he said. "I think we even have plates and forks. Let me go see." He came back shortly with bowls and spoons.
"Good enough," Joel said.
They sat in the entrance to the shed as they ate, soaking up the view, sitting in shadow for safety, even though they'd rather sit in sunshine for warmth.
"The last I'd heard, it was still a civilized place over here. What happened?" Joel asked.
"It's hard to say," Robert said. "It got fashionable to be immoral, then it got unacceptable to be moral, and then things went completely upside down in a matter of months. After a few smaller, warning waves, it sort of hit like a tidal wave, and when it was done, most Christians had moved out, or had met with unfortunate accidents, or were in jail on trumped up charges until they were shipped out. It's been crazy."
"Do you think you've got topsiders doing sabotage?" Joel asked.
"I hate to say it, but I don't think so. I think we imploded all by our own little sinful selves," Robert said. "It didn't help that we had more people calling themself Christian than were showing signs of really being converted. But the rest of us had sold out way too much, too. I don't know. It was a convergence of things, as far as I can tell. Anyway, thanks for coming over. I'd been doing my best to witness and to hold strong, but lately I've been praying for a chance to get with other believers, if only for a little while. You guys are sure a welcome sight, I can tell you."
"Don't expect too much, kid," Trevin said, with a twinkle in his eye. He looked over at Renzo, who was straining to eavesdrop while trying mightily to be invisible at the same time. "Hey, Renzo. Has anyone told you about conversion yet? Or sin? Or salvation?"
"Yes," Renzo said, reluctantly, and softly.
"Oh, oh. I smell an incomplete-gospel mess," Trevin said.
"I apologize if I did not answer correctly," Renzo said, with the same careful tone and formality he'd used with the Judge while taking Foundational Lessons.
"Oh, boy. Definitely stuck in the middle of the first step," Trevin said. "We don't have time to mess with details or much discussion just now, but the basics are this. Sin is doing something that cuts you off from God. Everybody sins. But God sent His son Jesus to Earth, to make a way for sinners to become holy enough to stand before God. Everybody has this life, and this life only, to choose whether to take that path to God, or to reject Him. If you reject Him, you spent eternity cut off from Him, in hell, feeling His wrath that your sin deserves. If you turn to Him, and surrender your life to Jesus, you spend eternity with Him, on good terms."
Robert watched Renzo take all this in. "Even if you've rejected Him for a long, long time, you can still turn around and head to Him, even if you've done horrible things, like murder or something," he added.
Renzo got stiff. "I do not believe you," he said.
"Bullseye, Robert," Trevin said, quietly.
"We'll finish this conversation later, gentlemen," Joel said.
Trevin cast Joel a questioning look. Joel chose not to answer, in part because he couldn't think of a useful way of saying 'I have no idea how to get us all home in the buggy if Renzo stops being cooperative or goes berserk,' and in part because he thought he was getting Holy Spirit nudges not to push Renzo too hard, especially with this many people around. Not yet, anyway.
Trevin leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. Joel guessed that he was praying about whether to mutiny, just this once. If ever a man was to mutiny, to do it for the sake of a man's soul would be the only good reason, as far as he could figure, but he didn't think they'd come to that. He waited. Trevin opened his eyes and asked for help standing up, which Joel correctly took as a sign that he was going to follow orders – and that he was ready to roll. Joel helped him up.
"Just so you know, on the way across, we had trouble with a helicopter flying over," Joel told Robert as they were strapping Trevin into the passenger seat. "It didn't see us, possibly because they were too busy shooting coyotes. But we did have a patrol."
"That surprises me. They'd pretty much given up on around here," Robert said. He drew a deep, slow breath, and bowed his head. "All right, Lord, I trust you with my soul in any case, but I'm asking for travel protection, if it's within Your will to keep us alive through this ordeal," he said.
"Amen to that," Trevin said. He turned to Renzo, who was standing uncomfortably by, waiting to crawl up on the back. "In case you don't understand what we're doing, we believe that the same God who made the universe and everything in it is still active in the world, and can offer protection to those who are faithful to Him. We also believe that He cares about our souls more than our physical lives – which are mighty short in any case – so we're not concerned in the same way about getting killed that someone who doesn't know God might be concerned. That's not to say…" He caught Joel casting him a look asking him to stop. "Well, later. This isn't the time for it," Trevin said, wrapping it up as requested.
"Load up, gentlemen," Joel said. "Robert, I'm trusting you to figure out our route and speed and stops, if any, and all that."
"That could be a problem, unless you want to go to Undervale. I know that route pretty good. The way to your place, not so much – as in, I've never been there. I'm counting on you guys to navigate."
"Not a problem. Pretty much we just follow the best line of ruins going north, and zag a little to the east. If I get lost, Trevin and Renzo can probably help you out, although they've only seen the landmarks from the other direction. If all else fails, follow the river. If you can't find a porthole, about a mile short of the Malyur, and about a fifth of a mile from the Snake, there's the sorry remains of a big camper bus, alongside an old farmhouse foundation. Behind the driver's seat is a voice tube into the tunnels that you can use to yell for help," Joel said.
"Got it. Fair warning: I generally drive fast, to minimize the time we're out in the open. Let me know if I go too fast, gentlemen," Robert said. He eased the machine out of its earthen garage and drove it under a nearby tre
e. He jumped out to close the bunker doors and otherwise secure the site. Less than a minute later he was strapped into the driver's seat, and proving that he wasn't kidding about driving fast.
Trevin pointed out the ruins of the old farm where they'd stashed their packs. Robert swung over so they could retrieve them. The packs were strapped to the back of the seats, on the platform on which Joel and Renzo were standing. It made it a little tight, but still workable. Soon, they were off again, jostling madly over the brightly colored, flower-perfumed desert, rather enjoying themselves. Talking was impossible over the roar of the engine, but by now they'd learned to communicate by hand signals, at least for navigational purposes. When needed, Joel would signal to Trevin, who would point for Robert. It seemed to be working well – until a bomb blast nearly rolled them over.
A government helicopter swung into view overhead, the pilot laughing at them. The cargo bay was open, and a man was peering out of it, also enjoying their fear and surprise. Renzo recognized him as the man who'd wanted to shoot him the day he'd had his name taken away.
Joel signaled to Trevin that he wanted the foursome to split into twosomes. Trevin signaled to Robert to slow down. Robert didn't like the idea, but hit the brakes anyway, orders being orders. Joel took Renzo off the back with him, and ran to one side,