//------------------------------// // Chapter Seven- Who Let the Dogs Out? // Story: Peregrination to the Promised Land // by Alden MacManx //------------------------------// Leaving Allentown about ten the next morning, after Joe went to paint in road markings for the prep teams, their next target is Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. On Ben’s advice, they left I-78 to take US-22, because there were few exits between the two cities, and if they wanted to forage, 22 would be the better bet. Yes, better foraging, but worse road conditions. Road conditions bad enough so that by late afternoon, they had only made it as far as Jonestown. Conditions grew even worse the next day, when they found the bridge over a big creek west of town had washed out in some earlier flood, to the point where Joe did not want to drive over what was left. As a result, they had to backtrack a few miles to find an on-ramp to the Interstate. After that, it was decided that they would stick to the Interstates unless they saw something worth exploring. That plan lasted all through Pennsylvania, following I-76 until it merged with I-70, then keeping on going west, bypassing Pittsburg. Their next major issue came up three days later, in Wheeling, West Virginia. On the drive, Ben proved himself a willing and eager member of the group, always happy to help on any task given to him. He always minded Joe’s words, and most often would listen to Marsha and Linz without many questions. He was willing to take night watches when camping, and generally slept while on the road, curled up in the bedding with Trixie watching over him. Caring and feeding of the chubby pup proved easy, he eating a lot of what the ponies did not want, and refrained from snacking much on the road, because the smell of meat products proved too intense for the ponies, except for the dried jerky. Slim Jim’s, though, were right out. In Wheeling, I-70 went through a tunnel in town that went under a park close to the Ohio River. Approaching the tunnel, Marsha, who was driving, slowed to a stop about a hundred yards away. Joe woke up Ben and the two took some lights to check out the tunnel. As Joe had thought, the tunnel was flooded to a point where it was not possible to drive through. They went back to the bus to check out the maps they had picked up at their last stop, which was just before the Pennsylvania/West Virginia state line. “Looks like the best way is to turn around here, take the US-250 south to I-470, head west to cross the river, then come back upriver on this highway 7 to I-70 again,” Joe said, tapping the local map with a wingtip. Linz looked a bit worried. “Joe, I think you should scout ahead. If that tunnel was flooded, maybe the river did a number on the bridges and routes around here. I’d feel safer if you checked things out,” she said quietly, clearly unhappy about something. Joe put his wing around Linz, to allay her worries. He’s been having to do a lot of that lately, both to Linz and Ben. “That sounds like a very good idea, Linz. Besides, I’ll have to mark the detour on the signage for the prep teams.” “Take your radio, Joe. There’s something about this city that is making me very nervous,” Linz said in a near whisper. “All the more reason to get started, right? Ben, go back to napping. Keep the radio here on. I’ll keep up a running commentary, okay?” Joe said, heading for the door. His paint pack is stowed in the rear equipment bay, so the paint smells would not contaminate the cabin. Marsha spoke up from the driver’s seat. “You got it, Eight-Nine,” she said, using Joe’s radio call sign to drive home the point he was the leader of the herd. Joe got his pack on, then clipped the microphone of his radio to a strap near his throat, so he would not have to push the button to talk while he worked and flew. He made the marks on the first set of signs, directing traffic off I-70 before the tunnel, then proceeded along the path. The river was indeed high, some of the banks showing flooding traces when the water was even higher. The bridges appeared sound, but the route 7 they planned to take appeared wet still. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol. Don’t take Route 7. Stay on 470 until it remerges with 70. I’m going to scout the way there and see if there are any obstacles that we’ll need to clear before we reach 70. I’ll join you at the merger.” “Eight-Patrol to Eight-Nine. Copy that,” Marsha said as she put the Patrol in gear and headed out. Joe flew on, inspecting I-470 all the way to I-70, seeing nothing that would warrant landing and clearing out. No big trees had crossed the road, just branches that could be dodged and some puddles from the last rain. He also checked for habitation, more out of habit than anything else. Except for Ben, they have not found any signs of anybody. Nearing the junction of 470 and 70, Joe spotted some smoke coming from a building off to his right and ahead, some thick black smoke. Calling in the sighting, he flew in to look. What he found was a bonfire, and a humanlike figure off to one side, binoculars to its face, waving at him with the other hand. Joe closed in, and the figure resolved into a doglike figure, wearing a white coat and boxer shorts, with some sort of boot like arrangement on its foot paws. Curious, Joe landed some feet away. The dog lowered the binoculars, letting them hang from a strap around its neck. “Hello, I’m Pete Petermann, the vet here. You’re the first intelligent being I have found since I woke up here like this,” the dog said, holding out a paw. Joe looked over the dog- he looked like an upright Doberman, with a slightly more muscular build. He also stood a good foot taller than Joe. He held out a hoof and ‘shook hands.’ “I’m Joe Velloti. Some friends and I are passing through the area. How did you know I was here?” he asked. “Red wings against a white cloud is a sure sign. I had been looking up as I fed the chickens and saw you flying. I ran here to light my signal fire. First time since fall that I had to. So, you’re a pegasus, like that Sudden Storm lady,” Pete said with a smile. “Must be fun.” Joe relaxed visibly when Pete mentioned Sudden Storm. “It is, believe me. Let me call in to my friends.” At Pete’s gesture, he did. “Eight-Nine to Eight-Patrol.” “Eight-Patrol. Go ahead, Eight-Nine,” Marsha replied. “What’s your twenty?” “Just past the High Ridge Road exit. See the smoke?” “Yes, and found a veterinarian clinic, and a vet. Follow the freeway to the junction, then take 70 EAST, take the first exit and follow the smoke, Marsha. Details to follow when you get here.” “Eight-Patrol ten-four.” The dog and pony chatted while waiting for the red bus to arrive, Pete explaining he had been awake at home when the flash happened, and came back ‘some time later’, as he was now. He made his way to the clinic, to find all the animals in cages dead from starvation, and had been that way for some time, by the looks of things. He had buried all the dead animals in a pit, which became his fire beacon pit. Joe started to tell his awakening story but had only got as far as his discovering how to fly before the Patrol arrived, Marsha driving. Pete looked on with a bit of a startled look as everyone got out, staring some at Ben when he exited. “So, I’m not the only dog…” he whispered. “No, you’re not. We found Ben there in Allentown, Marsha is from Harlem, and Linz from my hometown. We’re making our way to Alexandria, where a colony is forming. I’m sure we can find room for you, or you can wait for the follow-up team,” Joe told him. “The follow-up team will be better. I won’t be ready to move from here for a while yet. I do have livestock here to care for,” Pete said as the others approached. After introductions, Pete led the team into the waiting room, where they could all sit and chat. A wood-burning stove sat in one corner, with a chimney flue extending through a hole battered through the wall and chinked with some sort of putty. Once seated, Pete gently asked them about their stories, what they could do, and what supplies they had. He offered to examine everyone in exchange for anything they found they could swap out, offering medical supplies and training as well. Joe and Ben offered to go check their supplies while Pete examined Linz and Marsha. Once that was agreed upon, the two males went out to the patrol bus. Once inside, Ben looked at Joe, worried. “I don’t like what I’m feeling from him, Joe. The way he looks at us, I can’t tell if he’s thinking of us as people, ponies, or lab animals.” “I get the same feelings, too. I also don’t like how he looks at you. It’s like he wants you to stay, but what for? As another dog, or as a test subject? That’s the feelings I get,” Joe said as he checked over their supplies. “I can’t tell if he’s a lonely vet, or the reincarnation of Josef Mengele.” “I would say more like Doctor Frankenstein, myself. At least he’s offering us a good lunch. I haven’t had eggs in a long time,” Ben said. “Eggs and fresh roast chicken.” “You’re still on a diet, Ben. You’ve lost two pounds so far, with a long way to go,” Joe said seriously, poking Ben in his flabby stomach with a wing. “I can’t help it if I’m hungry all the time!” Ben whined, his tail and ears drooping. “You know that won’t work on us, Ben,” Joe told him as he took inventory. Joe found his exam to be thorough, if a bit cold. Apparently, Doctor Petermann does not have a good bedside manner. Joe forgave him that, because he was sure Pete was not used to having patients that could talk back. Pete was very fascinated with Joe’s wings, asking a lot of questions about how they worked, and how such little wings could allow flight, to which gave his stock answer, “I don’t have to know HOW it works, I just know they DO work. Just trust in the magic and let it work.” “That’s what I gathered from Sudden Storm’s news broadcasts. She’s a pegasus and talks about what it’s like to fly. Too bad I can’t figure out a way to call her,” Pete said as he was putting his exam tools up. “I don’t have a satellite phone.” “I’ll talk to the others and see if we can give you one of ours. I’m sure we can find another one before we reach Columbus,” Joe offered. “You could, but how can I keep it charged? No power,” Pete pointed out. “Good point. We don’t have a spare generator. Why don’t you go to Wheeling and see what you can scavenge?” Joe asked. Pete sighed as he closed the cabinets. “I feel uncomfortable if I go too far away from here. Being alone and leaving home makes me want to hurry back. The farthest I’ve been able to go is about three miles. I’ve had enough to live from within that radius, but so far, no generators. Maybe if I’m with someone, I could go farther.” “Let me talk to the others. If you like, we can stay a couple of days, and tomorrow, we’ll go to Wheeling and see if we can find you some necessities you have been doing without,” Joe told the vet. “If you would, I would like that. I won’t make you, but I would appreciate it. Right now, I have dinner to prepare for you all. Roast chicken for me and Benjamin, and mixed green omels for the rest of you.” “Omels? What’s an omel?” Joe asked, baffled by the word. Pete grinned, the first real smile Joe had seen on the Doberman’s face. Even that looked menacing. “Why, a grown-up omelet, of course! I have lots of eggs and some greens I’m sure you would enjoy!” “Add in some fresh bread, and that sounds good!” While Pete cooked with some help from Ben, Joe gathered Linz and Marsha in the Patrol and asked for opinions. Linz was first to speak, Trixie rubbing her legs. “I don’t like him, Joe. He asked a lot of snoopy questions about me and my magic. I showed him what I could do on my own, but I didn’t tell him how much Trixie seems to assist me. In fact, I didn’t tell him about Trix at all.” “I know I didn’t say anything about Trixie,” Marsha added. “He asked me about how strong I was, and I asked him if he wanted the building bucked down. He stopped asking me after that and got very wary around me.” “I know Ben does not like him, and neither do I. However, he is a survivor, and I feel we should offer him one trip to Wheeling to gather supplies before we leave. We can do that tomorrow. Linz, you, Ben and Trixie stay here while Marsha and I take Pete to town and scavenge. I’ll want to refuel doing so, too,” Joe said, coming to a decision. “That will give me some time to look around the compound. He said he’s been here alone since the fall, but I don’t feel like that’s true,” Linz said, looking concerned as she unpacked her bread-making supplies. While the fire grill was hot after cooking the chickens and omelets, she could do up a quick flatbread mix. “You up to doing so, Linz?” Marsha asked. “You don’t like being away from Joe.” “I’ll have Ben and Trixie with me. I’m sure I can manage a few hours away from Joe.” “We both know it will be necessary. Unpleasant, but necessary,” Joe said, putting a wing around Linz. “We’ll manage, right?” Trixie let out a meow as she pronked to Joe and wrapped herself around one of his fetlocks. “Well, Trixie thinks so!” Linz said with a smile, leaning into the hug. During dinner, Joe informed Pete of the plans they had come up with for the next day. “Sounds like a good idea to me,” Pete said. “I just hope this syndrome will be ameliorated by the presence of others. I know some places in Wheeling we could look at, if we can get to them.” “Do you have any ideas on what you can use, Pete?” Marsha asked after a mouthful of what she had to admit was a damned good omelet. Fresh eggs are a definite welcome addition to their diet. “I’ll have a list in the morning, before we go. I’m sorry that I don’t exactly have the best accommodations for you all over the next couple of days, but then again, I did not expect any company to drop in,” Pete said apologetically, but his expression did not match his tones. “We’ll manage,” Linz said. “We have to help each other in the ways we can. A good dinner and a secure place to sleep, without needing a guard, is always welcome, Pete.” “Indeed, it is. Until I got my bunk area secured, I slept with one eye open and a shotgun loaded with rock salt within reach. Saved my furry ass the first few times feral dogs dropped in. Just before the first snow, they stopped bothering me,” Pete explained. “Were you in the Army, Doctor Petermann?” Ben asked. “Navy Reserve. ROTC through high school and vet school, and two tours in Afghanistan, taking care of the canines. Over there, you always learn to be alert and aware, or else you may not come home,” Pete said, waving a paw at the trees just starting to show leaves. “I’ve lived here all my life, within a hundred miles of here. I came here after vet school because they had an opening.” “I never did any time in the military,” Joe said after some bread and eggs. “But I can see where it would be helpful here. Thank you for your service and thank you for dinner.” “You’re welcome, all of you. Now, allow me to handle cleaning up, and you all get set for the night. I burn trash, so forgive odd odors for a while. Oh, and don’t forget to feed your cat. There’s enough leftovers for her to enjoy,” Pete told the ponies. Linz looked startled. “How did you know we have a cat?” she asked. Pete just tapped his nose and smiled as he got up. “Time for us to call in to Belvedere. Fred will want to know what’s been going on,” Marsha observed as she got to her hooves. “While I should get to sleep early, because I’ll have to wake at rooster crow to scout the route back to Wheeling. Can we take I-70 direct, or go back along the 470? That will determine our best searching places,” Joe said as he stood and stretched. Pete smiled. “Actually, we won’t have to go to Wheeling. There’s a Wal-Mart and a mall less than a mile that way,” he said, pointing northwesterly. “The best thing for me would be use of the bus to haul back some stuff that is too hard to carry. If we can find enough crates for them, I’ll gift you with as many eggs as you can store. Deal?” A glance quickly bounced around the ponies. “Sounds like a deal to me!” Joe said with a sigh of relief. “Sleeping in sounds like a good thing!” After dinner clean up, the ponies pitched their big tent in the parking lot, so they would not have to sleep in the bus. No rain expected, so why not? Marsha set up her music player, and they all gathered to talk under cover of Bach. “All of us agree that Pete is as fishy as an aquarium, but we should help him out. One load of supplies, and we bingo out. Hopefully, we can get a good distance away before stopping. When I fly up and over to check the route, I’ll look as far west as I can. Hopefully there won’t be too many obstacles. “Linz, you, Trixie and Ben stay here while Marsha and I take Pete shopping. The fewer ponies along, the more room we’ll have for cargo. That and setting up your bake shop will be our reasoning. Ben, I want you to snoop around some, to see what you can learn. Any questions?” Joe asked when he finished. Ben raised a paw. “Yeah, what should we do if we find anything off color?” “Linz can text me on the phone. Marsha and I will remain close to him, and if necessary, we’ll bug out as fast as we can, get in the bus and pick you all up before de-assing the area with alacrity. Let’s all stay alert and hope nothing goes wrong, okay?” Marcia muttered, “Alert, alert, the world needs more lerts…” Joe nodded in agreement, snorting some. “Lerts yes, assholes no. Cross your hooves and let’s get some sleep,” he ordered, snuggling close to Linz, Trixie finding a space to cuddle up in with them. It did get chilly at night, but they had plenty of blankets to keep warm with.