Jigsaw World by JD Lovil Read Free Book Online

small 32 caliber handgun from the pile of
clothes. The Zippo went into his right front pocket as well. No
more lighting his cigs with Bics until the lighter fluid burned out
on this Zippo.
    Just as he straightened up from his task, the
sound of wolves howling seemed to erupt from everywhere around
them, although none of them sounded closer than a mile. It was time
to leave. It took him and Bailey about thirty more seconds to pile
into the van, and begin a decent acceleration toward the
interstate. This town could keep its werewolves! Most of the people
here must have been turned by now, anyway. The question is; did
they know it?
    They spent another hour on the road before the
radiator started to steam on the van. Tom pulled off to the side of
the interstate, and raised his hood. About two minutes later, a
very nice RV pulled off just in front of them. The driver came down
to see if they needed help. It turned out that the Hawaiian shirted
family man was headed to a Florida vacation, and had his thirteen
year old boy and his wife with him on this trip.
    An hour later, Tom was cruising down the
interstate in the RV with Bailey, having made an even trade with
the former owner. Tom now had the RV, and the man was in possession
of the van, where, along with his wife and kid, he now occupied the
back cargo area of the van. Tom had found a small swampy area close
to a hidden creek to park the van, where the man and his family
should not be disturbed for some time to come.
     
     
    ******
     
     

5 Puddled People

    Tom sat back down into the driver’s seat of
the RV. He had been parked at the rest stop for about an hour now,
trying to figure out exactly what had happened to the world. After
driving down Interstate 10 and failing to find any sign of San
Antonio, or anyone who knew where it was, or even that it existed,
he reached the ramp to Interstate 35, which should go to Dallas. It
should, but once again, the signage did not mention Austin or
Dallas or Ft. Worth, or any other city that Tom knew lay on that
route. The signs declared the existence of Mildew, and Norfed, and
Deadhead, and other cities that Tom had never heard of, and that
were not on his maps.
    Tom had also heard from a fellow Rest-stopper
that crossing into Mexico was a very bad idea nowadays. Apparently,
the Mexicans had built a continuous border fence to keep those
North Americanos out of their country. The Mexicans didn’t want our
kind coming across to use their superior medical and social support
systems. Tom felt that he must be sadly out of date. The last he
had heard, it was the United States that had those sentiments, and
far less resolve than the Mexicans had displayed.
    Tom lit another Pall Mall while he
contemplated his next moves. The RV was proving to be a most
satisfying way to travel. He had a momentary twinge of regret at
the sad end of the providers of this fine vehicle. The next time he
was in a bar, he resolved to drink a silent toast to his unknown
benefactors.
    Tom had spent all of yesterday driving, and
didn’t pull over to get any sleep until almost dawn. He had noticed
another peculiarity about the roads. The interstates were the
familiar ones, but they didn’t seem to have most of the familiar
landmarks and cities along them. Also, Interstate 10, and so far,
Interstate 35, seemed to be a lot longer than they were supposed to
be. From the odometers of the old van and this shiny new toy, they
had already gone almost three thousand miles on this trip, which
was much further than their positions justified. It should have put
them somewhere off the Florida or Georgia coasts.
    Relax while you can, he had always said. This
was a nice place to kick back for a few more hours, stocking up on
a couple of good meals and a good long sleep before proceeding to
the next listed city, another unknown one called Elkskull. Tom
grabbed the nearby Bailey, and gave him an affectionate ruffing up.
Bailey reacted with a smidgen of surprise, having been