Lucifer's Hammer - Larry Niven [149]
"Hello," Tim said.
"Hi."
"Have you been here long?"
"Got here just after dawn," the woman said.
"Did you come from town?" Eileen asked.
"No. We were camped up here. Tried to get back to Glendale, but the road's blocked. How'd you get up here? Could we go back the way you came?" Once she had found her voice, the woman talked rapidly.
"We came up Big Tujunga," Tim said.
The woman looked surprised, and turned to the hill. "Hey, Freddie. They came up Big Tujunga."
"It's blocked," the man called. He handed the shovel to another man and started down the hill toward them. Tim saw that he wore a pistol on his belt.
Their cars were not very new. A battered pickup truck, loaded with camping goods; a station wagon on sagging springs; an ancient Dodge Dart.
"We tried to get out Big Tujunga," the man was saying as he came closer. He wore typical camping clothing, wool shirt and twill trousers. A Sierra cup dangled from one side of his belt. The pistol hung in its holster on the other. He didn't seem to be aware of the gun. "I'm Fred Haskins. Reckon you came across the gorge by the old switchbacks?"
"Yes," Eileen said.
"What's it like back in L.A.?" Haskins asked.
"Bad," Tim said.
"Yeah. Earthquake shook the place pretty good, huh?" Haskins looked at Tim carefully. He looked at the bullet hole too. "How'd you get that?"
"Someone tried to stop us-"
"Where?"
"Just as we started up into the mountains," Tim said.
"Sheriff's honor farm," Haskins muttered. "All them prisoners loose, then?"
"What did you mean, 'bad'?" the woman asked. "What did you mean?"
Suddenly Tim couldn't stand it any longer. "It's all gone. The San Fernando Valley, everything south of the Hollywood Hills, drowned in a tidal wave. What wasn't drowned is burned. Tujunga looked pretty good, but the rest of the L.A. basin is finished."
Fred Haskins stared uncomprehendingly. "Finished? All those people dead? All of them?"
"Just about," Tim said.
"There are probably a lot of people still alive in the hills," Eileen said. "But—if the road's blocked, then they can't come up here."
"Jeez," Haskins said. "That comet hit us, right? I knew it was going to hit. Martha, I told you we'd be better up here. How long … ? I guess they'll send the Army to get us, but we may as well dig our way over," Haskins said. "Road on the other side looks in good shape. Far as we can see, anyway. Martha, you got anything on the radio yet?"
"Nothing. Static. Sometimes I think I hear a few words, but they don't make sense."
"Yeah."
"You folks had anything to eat?" Martha Haskins asked.
"No."
"You look starved. Here, I'll get you something, Mister—"
"Tim."
"Tim. And you're—"
"Eileen. Thank you."
"Yeah. Tim, you go with Fred there and help dig while I get lunch together."
As they climbed up the steep trail, Fred said, "Glad you came along. Not sure we could have got all the cars over. With that rig you can pull 'em over for sure. Then we'll go look for the Army people."
The road heaved and shifted and moved out from under the lead truck.
Corporal Gillings, dozing in his seat, was jarred nastily awake. Swearing, he looked out through the canvas. The convoy was trapped. The earth heaved like a sea—
"Hammerfall," he said.
The troops were muttering. Johnson asked, "What's that?"
"The end of the fucking world, you dumb motherfucker. Don't you read anything?" Gillings had read it all: the National Enquirer, articles in Time, the interviews with Sharps and others. He had planned it all a thousand times, daydreaming in his bunk, adding loving details to the scenario. Gillings knew what would happen when Lucifer's Hammer fell. End of civilization. And the end of the goddam Army, too. It would be every man for himself, and the right man could be a fucking king if he played his cards right.
Johnson was staring, bewildered and lost, waiting to hear