The Pilgrimage Chapter 1

     The three unlikely acquaintances silently looked out the window of the beaten old ford F250 that was taking them to Nevada. The pilgrimage was something that became almost a necessity for those that survived the war. Once the internet began to pop back up and infrastructure started to resemble something close to pre-war internet, fighters began to pool up into online communities and lean on each other. There was no VA, for better or worse, and so these men and women often commiserated together, sharing stories, getting drunk in group streams and sometimes just staring blankly into the abyss, trying to find connection online.

     Greg, Julio, and Shen were talking online one day and they decided it was time to make the pilgrimage that others had talked about. Their friend Brad wanted to come, and it was on the way. They were all close enough that within a few days they would be able to link up and Greg volunteered to use his truck to make the trek to Nevada. The roads were dangerous out of the cities and mutual aid communities that have popped up in the wake of the firebombing campaigns. Few within the cities survived the four year conflict, and the ones that remained found groups and tribes and communities to begin rebuilding. There were of course others who chose to prey on the weak.

     “When will we make it to Brad’s house?” Julio asked Greg.

     “I’m guessing a few more hours. Should reach Carlsbad by sun up.” Greg replied

     Greg and Shen met up in Dallas, where Shen lived, then picked up Julio in Austin. He traveled up from Robstown in South Texas. Greg found a group to start over with in Kansas, after wandering around Oklahoma for a few years. He spent time pulling security for food and fuel and a few more less than savory actions before settling down. He hated it. This trip was something he felt he needed in his soul, just like everyone else.

     “Put on some music.” Shen requested

     Greg pulled out his phone, plugged it into the auxiliary port in the stereo and handed it to Shen who was in the front seat next to him.

     “My downloads are in the music folder.” Greg explained while paying attention to the road.

     Shen put on some rock, from the not so large list of options. Hours went by and the sun could be seen breaking through the horizon, as if it required just the right amount of thrust to penetrate the barrier holding it down. They arrived at Carlsbad without incident, and pulled up to a gate that offered entry into a walled off compound.

     “Who are you here to see?” a man said, appearing suddenly next to the driver's side window.

     “Shit! You scared me,” Greg said while Shen was holding his chest as if he were having a heart attack. Julio just sat there silently observing the surroundings holding his pistol in his hand. The guard stood there waiting for an answer.

     “Brad. We're here to pick up Brad.” Greg answered.

     The guard stepped away and made a motion with his hand. The gate opened up and they drove through. A guard on the other side of the gate motioned them to park nearby. After getting out of the car, Julio holstered his pistol while Greg and Shen patted their sides where their’s were concealed. Julio insisted on wearing the firearm on the outside. He always quoted a song when he mentioned it. “For all the honest world to see” he would say.

     A man with a backpack came walking up to them. It was Brad. He extended his hand out to Shen, who was the closest one to him. Shen gripped his hand and pulled him in to give him a hug as men do. Two pats on the back, then quick separation. All of them did this, and Julio went to the vehicle and pointed at the bed of the truck.

     “Put your stuff back here. Let's be on our way.”

     Brad put his belongings in the vehicle. He hopped in the back and waved to some of the guards. They nodded and then the gates opened again as the vehicle pulled up to it. Soon they were on the road again. Most of the next few hours was just normal chit chat.