Lucifer's Hammer

The mountains had shifted. The road might have ended anywhere. Like Mark Czescu’s judgment, it was nothing you could count on absolutely; but neither had failed them this time. Eventually they came to paved road, and Harvey could increase his speed.

He liked driving. He drove with single-minded determination, with no room for other thoughts. Watch for rocks. Ease around curves. Keep going, rack up the miles, on and on and never look back and never think about what’s behind you.

Down and down now, into the San Joaquin. Water standing everywhere. That was frightening. Harvey stopped and looked at the map. Their way ran directly to a dry lake bed. It wouldn’t be dry now. So cross the Kern River on the freeway, then get off and cut northeast…

Would their gas hold? They had plenty so far. Harvey thought of the extra gas he’d stored, and of thieves and killers in a blue van. Wherever they hid, someday he would track them down. But they hadn’t taken this road. He’d have noticed. So far they’d had the road almost to themselves.

Dawn found them north and east of Bakersfield. They’d made effective progress. Thirty miles an hour, and now they were on high ground, skirting the eastern edge of the San Joaquin, with nothing to stop them.

Harvey realized where they were heading. Their route would take them right past the Jellison ranch.

The Tule River was too deep, way too deep. Nobody had dared to use the road that ran alongside. By the time Harvey realized this, it was too late. He could see the dam ahead.

Water streamed around one side and all along the top. He could just tell where the spillway was: a surging current in the river that poured over the face of the dam. He sounded the horn and waved Mark ahead. He clenched his fist and moved it vigorously up and down, the Army signal for double time. He pointed at the dam.

Mark got the message; he gu

A river of mud submerged the road. A dozen people and half that many cars were mired in the mud. They’d tried to get past the slide and got stuck.

Harvey levered the TravelAII into four-wheel drive and went on without stopping. One man stepped forth to bar their way with spread arms. Harvey came close enough to see wide eyes and bared teeth, a rictus of terror and determination… and he saw Harvey’s face. The TravelAll’s headlight ticked his heel as he leaped away.

The mud was sliding and the TravelAII slid with it. Harvey turned hard, gu

There was a bridge ahead. It crossed an arm of the lake… and it was under water. Harvey couldn’t tell how deep. He slowed.

Suddenly there were other sounds embedded in the sounds of river and rain and thunder. Screams. Joa

Harvey stopped the TravelAII.

The dam was going. One whole side of it crumbled, all in a moment, and the lake went forth in a wall of water. The screams were drowned in its thunder.

“Our timing was s-superb,” Joa

“All those people,” Harvey muttered. All the travelers in cars not as good as the TravelAII. All the farmers who thought they’d wait it out. People on foot, people already marooned on roofs and high points in the new shallow lakes, would look up to see the wall of water marching toward them.

It would be worse when the other dams went. The whole valley would be flooded. No dam would hold against this relentless rain. Harvey took a deep breath.

“Okay, it’s over. We made it. Quaking Aspen is only thirty miles from here. Gordie’ll bring them out there.” He summoned up a mental picture of the road north of Springville. It crossed many streams, and the map showed small power stations and dams on some of them. Dams above the road.

Had they failed? Would they fail? It would be foolish, even insane, to charge up the road just in time to be washed down again.

“Let’s go,” Marie said.

Harvey drove on. There was no water above the bridge now. That water was on its way into the San Joaquin Valley. He drove across the bridge, and was surprised to see a big truck coming toward him. It stopped just at the far end of the bridge. Two big men got out. They stared as Harvey drove past them. One started to shout something, then shrugged.

Up ahead there was another bridge out. That decided it: Harvey had to detour past the entrance to Senator Jellison’s place.

And where better to learn what was happening in the mountains? For that matter, where would they go once they found the boys? Marie hadn’t thought past the moment of finding Bert and Andy. Neither had Harvey until now, but…

But this was perfect. The scout troop would have to come past the Jellison place.

And Maureen would be there.

Harvey despised himself for thinking of her. Loretta’s face swam in front of him, and the vision of a body wrapped in an electric blanket. He slowed to a stop.

“Why are we — ” Before Marie could finish there was an explosion behind them, then another.

“What the hell” Harvey started the car again. Remorse was replaced by fear. Explosions? Had they wandered into a range war or something? He drove ahead, while Joa

Mark whipped the bike into a U-turn and drove back the way they’d come. He waved as he went past.

“Damn fool curiosity will kill him yet,” Joa

Harvey shrugged. He could stand not knowing, but it would be nice to find out. Up ahead, a couple of miles, not far at all, was the turnoff. Then safety, refuge, rest.

He drove slowly, and he’d just reached the Senator’s drive when he saw Mark coming up behind him. He pulled to a stop.

“That bridge,” Mark said.

“Yeah?”

“The one we came over,” Mark said. “Those two dudes just blew it. Dynamite, I think. They dropped it at both ends. Harvey, a half-hour later and we’d be stranded back there.”

“Two minutes later,” Joa

“It takes luck,” Harvey said. “In combat, here, luck’s as important as brains. But we won’t need any more for awhile. I’m going in there.” He waved toward the Senator’s drive.

“Why?” Marie demanded, ready for war.

“Road conditions. Information.” Harvey drove on to the gate. It was only just coming to him — it had never occurred to him, not for an instant — that a master of television documentaries might not be welcome at a politician’s home.

He got out to open the gate.

There was a car parked inside. A young man got out and wearily came to the TravelAII. “Your business?” he inquired. He eyed Joa

“We’ll be no trouble,” Harvey said. The man had seen the NBS markings on the TravelAII — and he hadn’t been impressed. “Can you get a message up to the big house?”

“Depends on the message. Might.”

Harvey had thought it through. “Tell Maureen Jellison that Harvey Randall is here with three dependents.”

The man looked thoughtful. “Well, you got the names right. She expecting you?”

Harvey laughed. It struck him as insanely fu

The man withdrew a little. His large red face blanked out. There were things he didn’t want to know. But — the Senator had told the meeting he’d like to talk to someone who’d seen what happened to L.A. And this city man did know the Senator’s name, and Maureen’s as well.