Back on Collins Avenue, the main thoroughfare that ran parallel with the beach, they walked past the broken shop windows and looted debris that covered the pavements. Grass and weeds flourished in the crumbling concrete. Their yellow half-track with the Earth Foundation symbol, green letters in a white oval, was in the parking lot of a shopping mall on Twenty-ninth Street. The vehicle was electrically operated by solar-powered batteries. This far south the internal-combustion engine couldn't be relied upon; in the new subtropical atmosphere it had become necessary to use rocket-propelled aircraft because of the number of jet- and piston-engined aircraft that had crashed on take-off and landing.
Chase reached up to the recessed handle of the driving cab and a shiny crease appeared in the body panel inches away from his hand. The crack of a rifle shot echoed between the buildings.
Another shot gouged up a chunk of asphalt as they scuttled into the protecting cover of the half-track. Chase released the safety on his eight-cylinder automatic and peered cautiously over the streamlined nacelle of the vehicle.
"Anybody see where the shots came from?" he asked, trying to decide whether it was one sniper or more.
"Sorry, sweetheart," Cheryl said laconically. "I was too busy to notice."
"Why didn't they take the half-track while we were on the beach?" Dan said. "We were away nearly an hour."
Chase wondered about that too. He could only suppose their attackers hadn't spotted it before--had seen the three of them on the beach and waited for them to return. But that still left an even more puzzling question unanswered. Who could possibly survive in this environment? There might be sufficient food stashed away in the abandoned hotels to last decades, but what the hell did they
He ought never to have exposed Cheryl and Dan to this danger. Cursing himself for being such an idiot, he glanced over his shoulder and was taken aback to find his son grinning behind his mask. "I'm glad you think it's funny."
"You kept promising me an interesting trip, Dad. This is the best bit so far."
"Getting your head blown off is interesting. I see. Pity they haven't a nuke warhead handy and then we could really enjoy ourselves." Chase tapped the metal bodywork with the barrel of the automatic. "You do realize this isn't armor-plated, don't you? If they hit something vital we could be here for quite some time. Like forever."
Cheryl had another fear. She was examining the gauge on the end of the rubber tube that was clipped to her harness. "We've got twenty minutes supply left, Gavin. Do we climb in and take the chance we can get far enough away before getting hit?"
The half-track was equipped with a regeneration system that filtered the outside air and extracted the oxygen from it. Thus concentrated, this self-contained atmosphere could sustain them indefinitely. But first they had to get inside and seal the doors under the eyes of at least one marksman with a high-powered rifle.
Chase said, "You two climb in while I draw their fire. I'm going to run for that corner--there, by the bank. As soon as I get there, be ready to move. I'll keep them occupied while you drive the half-track up the avenue. Take one of the streets off to the left, out of their line of sight."
"Where do we pick you up?" Cheryl said, watching him steadily through the curved faceplate.
"Sound the horn every thirty seconds. I'll cut down the side streets as soon as you're clear."
"If we sound the horn they'll know where we are," Dan said.
"Then you'll have to hope I get there first," Chase said grimly. To Cheryl he said, "Let Dan have your gun. He can keep lookout while you drive."
Cheryl unbuckled the holster flap and handed over the automatic. "Keep it on safety until--
Dan's dark eyebrows arched. "Don't you trust me?"
"Do as Cheryl says and don't play the hero!" Chase snapped. He saw Dan drop his eyes and felt perhaps he'd been too harsh. But dammit, this wasn't a schoolboy game. Had he been as flippant at Dan's age? No, there were significant differences between father and son, the casual irresponsibility of youth aside.
"I thought the National Guard was supposed to keep law and order in the Official Devastated Areas," Cheryl said, craning around the vehicle to get a view of the upper windows on the opposite side of the street.
Chase smiled weakly. "They are, in theory," he said. "They can't be everywhere at once, I suppose."
"Who are they, do you think?" Dan asked.
"I've no idea." Chase checked the magazine and practiced sighting along the burnished barrel. "Cubans maybe. When the rest of the population evacuated the Cubans moved in. There could still be a settlement in one of the hotels. Don't ask me how they managed to survive because I haven't the faintest." He looked up, trying to quell the flutter of panic in his chest. "All right, you two. Ready?"
Cheryl touched his arm with her gloved hand. "Please don't get shot."
