Alex stayed with the bus while the others went looking for new clothes, or whatever else they wanted to get. The sergeant stayed in the passenger section, continuing to work on the explosives he had made at the high school in Manhattan, turning them into pipe bombs.
"I got this for you," Alisha said, holding out a set of camouflaged hunting clothes, exactly four hours later.
"And I got you this," Shannon held up a pair of khaki cargo pants and a black sweatshirt.
"Uh, thank you both," he said to them, reluctantly accepting both sets of clothing.
The two women had been snippy with each other, particularly where he was concerned, since they met at Bob's Diner, like cats fighting over a poor mouse. He had been hoping that they would figure it out and start getting along, but either way, he didn't want to get in the middle of it if he could avoid it.
"And I got you... nothing," Tony said with a smile, "but I got myself a lap dance."
"He did," Karen rolled her eyes, "at a strip club called The Bus Stop."
"What?" he shrugged innocently, "I don't know if I'll ever get one again, so think of it as bidding a fond farewell."
"Wait, there's a strip club here?" Marcus asked. "Can we stay another hour?"
"Here," JJ said, shoving a tactical vest and web belt towards Alex, "Merry Christmas."
"And a Happy New Year," John added, handing him a bottle of Captain Morgan Black rum."
"Very happy indeed," he agreed wholeheartedly, "now let's get on the road."
They got back on I-70, Alex driving and Marcus riding shotgun. Alisha, never wanting to be far from Alex, was laying down on the bunk in the extended cab, trying to find a TV channel and doing her nails with the new polish she got in Burlington.
After two hours on the road, they could just barely see the mountain tops on the western horizon. There were three places where they were obscured by dark clouds, or fog, or maybe smoke. It was impossible to tell from this distance.
"Whadya think, boss?" Marcus asked, eyeing the horizon as critically as Alex had been.
"I think that we can't see enough from here to be sure. On the other hand, I'd bet dollars to donuts that at least Denver, Colorado Springs, and Boulder have been hit."
"Makes sense. All big cities."
"Check the map. Find the best route into the mountains that doesn't go through a big city."
After a few minutes of studying the map, Marcus said, "Well there's a gap between Denver and Colorado Springs we could try, or between Colorado Springs and Pueblo. There's some steep canyons up north by the Wyoming border."
"That sounds promising. But I want to see Boulder first. I know that there are some really good places around there to hide."
"Why are we hiding?" Alisha said, finally tired of TV static surfing.
"'Cause we don't wanna get killed by alien hordes?" Marcus said.
"But what are we hiding for?" she insisted, "I mean, what kind of world is this going to be after all of the fighting and destruction. Wouldn't it be better to stand and fight? Try to beat them instead of hiding our heads in the mountains?"
"Good point," Alex admitted, "I know that JJ and I can handle combat, and probably Marcus here. I'm more concerned with getting the civilians, like you, to a safe place where you have a chance to survive and rebuild when this is all over."
"That's sweet," she kissed his cheek, "you want me to live."
As they drew closer to the mountains, it became apparent that the whole Front Range was covered in layers of thick black smoke as far as the eye could see. The occasional snow-shrouded mountain peak could be seen poking up from behind the haze.
"That's can't be good," JJ, who had come up from the back, said.
"Yeah. Keep your eyes peeled for aliens."
"Hey, pull over at the next town. I'd like to do some recon before we go charging into the middle of a battle."
"What kind of recon did you have in mind?"
JJ shrugged, "I dunno. Maybe a two-man recon team on motorcycles?"
"That sounds like a plan. John can be ready to bring the bus up if it's clear."
"Agreed."
A few miles later, Alex pulled into the Strasburg Conoco station. Unlike Burlington, Strasburg seemed to be mostly abandoned. There were a couple of cars puttering about town, and the Strasburg Espresso coffee shop and pizzeria seemed to be open, but other than that there were few signs of human habitation.
Zipping down the interstate on their dirt bikes, all Alex could think about was how loud the bikes were. About fifteen miles later, they stopped to see if they could get a better look. The distant chatter of automatic gunfire was unmistakable. They traded looks, then both pulled out their binoculars to see what they could see.
The smoke was thin this far out, but it was still there; a silken haze that made everything look as it would at twilight, with the campfire smell of burning wood. The haze thickened towards Denver, becoming more like octopus ink in the ocean.
"Looks like a lot of fires," JJ said, eyes pressed to his binoculars.
As they watched, the flare of a rocket ignited and arced over several blocks, then dove down and exploded, the fireball visible even without the aid of field glasses. The dotted glow of tracer rounds shot into the sky like Morse code signaling for help.
"At least there's still resistance going on," Alex said, "we aren't the only ones still fighting."
"Maybe we should join them," JJ casually suggested.
"Yeah, I have that urge too. But we've got to get the civilians someplace safe."
