338

You pull over to the side of the road and Rickenbacker radios to the convoy, instructing it to stop and stand by. You focus your eyes on the distant junction, and begin to make out the shape of people. They are standing on the highway, either singly or in groups, but they do not appear to be doing anything in particular. When they do move it is with such lethargy that, from this distance, they resemble a colony of shambling zombies.

‘I don’t like the look of this,’ you say to your partner. ‘Radio the convoy and get them to put Cookie on. Maybe he knows something about these weirdos.’

Rickenbacker complies with your request and, within a minute or so, you are talking to Cookie person-to-person. ‘Sounds like you’ve run across a pack of Crazies,’ says Cookie, after listening to your description of the people at the junction. ‘They’re mainly junkies and street-scum that the army has kicked outta LA and San Francisco. They’re usually pretty harmless, but watch y’selves. You never can tell what Crazies’ll get up to.’

You thank Cookie for the advice and sign off by telling the convoy that you and Rickenbacker are on your way back. You are about to reach for the ignition when you hear a movement away to your right. You turn your head and see three Crazies—two men and a woman—emerge from the scrub and scurry towards the truck. Despite their frightening appearance, you notice that none of them appears to be armed.

If you wish to start the truck and drive away, turn to 29.

If you wish to stop and question them, turn to 173.