Axler, James - Deathlands 11 - Time Nomads by Axler James

Author:Axler, James [Axler, James]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

THEY CROSSED the wooden bridge again, but this time the four-man patrol stood back and simply waved them by.

The map showed a main highway to the north, with a cutoff east on a narrower road near an old settlement called Questa. Beulah had found all that on her ancient Rand McNally Road Atlas and Vacation Guide .

"Red River Ski Area, up this little red line," she said, pointing it out to Ryan.

There was no point in showing the Trader, who found reading and writing about as easy as juggling a handful of eggs.

Ryan looked at the scuffed, faded print, angling it to catch the morning sunlight that came in through the open-roof ob-slit.

"Hey! What's that say?" he asked, pointing to some pale green letteringCarson Nat'l Forest.

"One of the national recreational areas," Beulah said. Then the significance of the name struck her as well.

"Oh, Land O'Goshen! Named after the Baron of Towse himself."

"But that map's a century old," Ryan said wonderingly. "How can it be named after Alias Carson? He wasn't even born."

It was Matt, the relief driver of War Wag One, traveling with them for the morning to gain more experience, who supplied the answer. His collection of comics covered all kinds of superheroes, but he also had a small number of fragile Western mags.

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"Kit Carson," he suggested, overhearing the conversation. "Real famous cowboy and Indian fighter.

Mainly around these parts. More'n likely that forest was named after him."

Ryan felt vaguely disappointed at such a mundane explanation.

For the first few miles it was obvious that the two-lane blacktop had been well traveled. But gradually the going got tougher.

The saturation use of missiles by all the countries involved in the brief but terminal Third World War had caused devastation far beyond anything that the military tacticians and logistical experts had ever predicted. Even in the "worst worst" scenario, there'd been forecasts of some kind of eventual rebuilding of society through minimum levels of survival.

But nobody had taken into account the way that the land itself would react to the total assault.

Hundreds of thousands of square miles of what had been the United States of America had vanished into the oceans. Low-lying areas had become measureless lagoons or lakes. Mountains had crumbled and new peaks had thrust skyward. The land had rippled as though it were soft and liquid. What had changed across the face of the continent had changed forever.

The earth tremors had affected the northern parts of what had been New Mexico, diverting rivers and turning highways into ribbons of broken, corrugated stone.

Hun was at the driving controls of War Wag One, her ob-shield open. A current of fresh air washed through the stuffy interior of the huge vehicle. Their speed had been slowing down ever since they crossed the deep gorge. Nobody really knew how fast a war wag could go under ideal circumstances, mainly because they never encountered anything remotely resembling ideal circumstances.

Ryan had known Hun to push them up over fifty

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