Lucifer's Hammer

“And we found a stash,” Alim said. “Coke, hash oil, weed, nothing but the best. I took it away before my dudes could start lighting up right there.”

Hooker drank whiskey. “Get it all?”

“Don’t be so fuckin’ smart. No, I did not get it all. I wasn’t even tryin’, Hook, I just wanted to make the point, if they used on the spot I’d take it off them. Hell, that was then, you know, there were cops on patrol all over—”

“Yeah.”

“So it happened. The goddam Hammer. We got out, fire trails, roads, anything, we got out, headin’ for Grapevine, and the truck starts wheezin’. We were out on one of the trails, tryin’ to stay off the freeways, you know? So we come up on top of a rise and see this van coming behind us. Bright blue van, with four bikes, everybody with shotguns and rifles, like a stagecoach in the movies with the army ridin’ escort—”

“Sure,” Hooker said. He poured more whiskey. In a few minutes they’d have to talk for real, but it was nice to be dry, have a drink, not think about where they’d have to go now.

“We set it up real good,” Alim said. “Got ahead of the van far enough, used a chain saw to drop a tree just as the van comes through a narrow place, and man, you should have seen it! Those bikes stopped and my studs wasn’t more than five feet from ’em. Come out from the trees shootin’. Used a lot of bullets, but shit, with those pistols we had… Anyway, it was perfect. Knocked the bikes over, never touched one of the bikes at all. There’s the van stopped, and the driver’s got his hands on the wheel where we can see, nice and easy, and the van’s not even touched, Hook, not even a scratch on that pretty blue paint.

“And did I get all that coke we found in Bel Air? No I did not. That motherfuckin’ Ha

“Aw, shit.” Hooker shook his head, thinking about it. “Good stuff in the van?”

“Good? Good? Hook, you won’t believe what was in that fuckin’ van! That motherfucker went up like… Iike…”

“Gasoline.”

“Yeah, a lot like that.” Alim tried to laugh, but he couldn’t. “The guys inside the van caught on fire and come out screamin’, and a couple of the bastards have guns. I got to give ’em credit, clothes all burnin’ up they’re still shootin’ at us, and we shoot back, and by the time that was over the whole van’s on fire, can’t get near it.

“Bottles start exploding in the truck. Oh, man, Hook, the smells were enough to drive you out of your gourd! Here we’re starvin’, nothin’ to eat, and out comes cookin’ meat smells. And more. Scotch, brandy, fruity smells like those lick-kewers that nobody ever has the bread for, chocolate, raisins, apples — shit, Hook, that van was just stuffed with food and liquor! Food. Meat, not somebody in the truck, beef—”

Alim stopped suddenly. He looked sideways at Hooker. Hooker didn’t have to say anything.

“Yeah. Anyway, something blew then, and out comes this package of beef jerky, still wrapped up in tinfoil and plastic bags, not burned, no gasoline on it, couple of pounds of beef jerky. Gay runs into the truck and comes out with two bottles, only we had to let him drink one of ’em to kill the pain, and when he really started feelin’ it we’d drunk the other. Shit.

“But a couple of the studs on the bikes were still alive and they told us what they had in that truck. Everything Guns. food, every kind of liquor ever made, European stuff, can you imagine what it must be worth now? Europe can be on the fuckin’ Moon for all we’ll ever see from there again. There was a ton of beef jerky, and fatty stuff that tasted even worse only who cares when you’re starving? And soup, and potatoes, and freeze-dried mountain food — shit, those dudes had waited until the Hammer came and looted all the places where they’d seen people gettin’ ready.”

“Smarter than you were,” Hooker said.

Alim shrugged. “Maybe. I didn’t think that fuckin’ comet would hit. Did you?”

“No.” If I had, Hooker thought. If I had, I’d never have been out in that truck, we’d have had a lot more ammo… shit, why did I go off and leave the captain alone back there?

“…and bottles of gasoline,” Alim was saying. “Big help, right? We could smell it, all of it, food burnin~, gasoline exploding, clothes burning, those motherfuckers must have really thought the glaciers were coming, and if they were right,” Nassor screamed, “then that motherfuckin’ Ha

“What happened to the bikes?” Hooker asked. He didn’t bother asking about their riders.

“Got burned up. Fuckin’ truck kept blowin’, more gasoline in there. Spread all over. Shit, Hooker, that fire was so fuckin’ hot that it got the trees burnin’! In the middle of that rain, water comin’ down like a bathtub of warm shit and even the trees get to burning! We saved their shotguns, though.”

“That’s good. Too bad about the other stuff.”

“Yeah.”

They were safe, for a while, and just about everybody, even the slaves, was dry and warm and had almost enough to eat. They didn’t want to think about leaving, or where they’d go, and they’d put off talking about it before, and they put it off now, but they wouldn’t be able to put it off much longer.

“AIim! Sergeant!”

It was Jackie. There were others yelling too. Alim and Hooker ran out of the tent. “What is it?”

“Corporal of the guard, post number four!” someone yelled.

“Let’s go!” Hooker waved troops to their perimeter positions, then went off toward the yelling sentry.

“Be not afraid, my brothers!” someone called from out in the misty rain. “I bring you peace and blessing.”

“Shit fire,” Sergeant Hooker said. He peered out into the mist.

An apparition materialized. A man with long white hair and long white beard, and a raincoat that looked something like a gown or a ghost’s winding sheet. There were other figures in the gloom behind the man.

“Hold it right there or we shoot!” Hooker yelled.

“Peace be with you, brothers,” the man called. He turned back toward those who were following him. “Be not afraid. Stay here, and I will talk with these angels of the Lord.”

“A crazy,” Hooker said. “Lot of crazies!” He’d seen plenty of them before. He cocked the submachine gun. No point in letting the old goon get too close.

But the man walked in steadily, not afraid at all, facing Hooker’s gun and not afraid of it, and certainly there wasn’t any threat in his eyes. “You need not fear me,” the man said.

“What do you want?” Hooker demanded.

“To talk with you. To bring you the message of the Lord God of Hosts.”

“Aw, fuck that shit,” Hooker said. His finger tightened on the trigger, but now the old man was too close. Two of Hooker’s own people were near enough to the line of fire that Hooker didn’t want to risk it. And the man looked harmless enough. Maybe there’d be some fun in this. And what could it hurt to let him come in? “The rest of you stay out there,” Hooker yelled. “Gillings, get a squad and check them out.”

“Right,” Gillings called.

The white-haired man strode to the campfire as if he owned it. He looked into the stewpot and at the others around the fire. “Rejoice,” he said. “Your sins are forgiven.”

“Now just what do you want?” Hooker demanded. “And don’t give me crap about angels and the Lord. Angels.” Hooker snorted.

“But you can be angels,” the man said. “You were saved from the holocaust. The Hammer of God has fallen upon this wicked world, and you have been spared. Don’t you want to know why?”