To punctuate Derrick’s comments a close gunshot was heard, followed by screaming from the other side of the Bob Evans. Joshua was following the briefing the best that he could, but realizing that they would need to leave soon, he asked, “Are we without any options?”

“I grew up around here, and the problem is that your Jeep is not amphibious. To get anywhere in West Virginia, you’ll need to eventually cross water. If you head south and east toward Montgomery, West Virginia, then you’re cut off from a viable route west anytime soon. I’ve been keeping tabs on the ham network through my friend Lou, who relays a summary to me every half hour or so. Lou is working up the road at the church with a community-organized roadblock. When the interstate was blocked, we didn’t want people pouring into our neighborhoods, looking like refugees but intent on pillaging the good people that I grew up with.”

Derrick pointed without looking to his right across Joshua’s rifle. “If you head up Frame Road there, you’ll run into the roadblock and not be able to get any farther west. However, if you like, I can radio to Lou and tell him to let the guards know your party is coming. They can let you through, and from there you can make your way to the Raymond City/Dunbar area. If that bridge isn’t closed, then you might still be able to cross the river and then beat feet west and south from there to get to Kentucky.”

Joshua assessed the whole situation before accepting Derrick’s help.

“Now for your test of character and goodwill.” Joshua looked puzzled. “Did you notice the Chrysler that sputtered to a stop past you where you were parked initially?” Joshua nodded. “That old lady is stuck; no fuel and no way to get it. I know that she lives over in the Raymond City area. The route west across the back roads is pretty complicated if you don’t know it—but she does and could give you turn-by-turn directions. This isn’t a must, but if I were you, I’d be sowing some good karma right now and take her with you to Raymond City. It’s your choice and your risk to take her or not take her and lose precious time before that bridge potentially closes. I think that your ladies over there have that fueling mission wrapped up, so it’s time to react most rick tick. I’ll call Lou while you load up.”

Joshua thanked Derrick and went over to the Jeep to brief Megan and Malorie on their options and the recent developments in Charleston. The sisters agreed that taking the grandmother was a good move. “I have to think that God would honor that,” Megan said. “She can sit back here with one of the boys on her lap while you and Malorie continue to drive and keep your eyes open. I have a feeling that things are not going to calm down until we are well out of Charleston. I’ll go talk to her; Joshua, you pay and ask Derrick how we signal the guys at the checkpoint.”

Joshua hustled across the parking lot and thought, “She thinks of everything!” Derrick was walking toward him with the radio up to his mouth. Joshua said, “Derrick, I cannot thank you enough. My fiancée went to get the woman in the Chrysler; we can get her to Raymond City. What is our signal to Lou?”

“Good on ya, not everyone would have done that for her. Lou said to get a yellow plastic WET FLOOR sign and attach it to your front brush guard. That way they can wave you through from afar. The roadblock is layered, so to get past the first two points, then to the serpentine section, you have to advance to be recognized. Those boys up there are good shots, so proceed with caution. God bless.”

Joshua thanked Derrick again and paid Ganesh in cash for the fuel, thanking him once more. He asked for a WET FLOOR sign for the checkpoint and Ganesh appeared back out in a moment with it and some duct tape. Joshua paid him an extra ten dollars for the sign and then got into the driver’s side of the Jeep. Malorie was partially standing in the Jeep, with one leg out, using the door for makeshift cover as much as possible in case she had to react quickly. The boys had been hunkered down in the bushes, but as Megan crossed the parking lot with her arm linked with the older woman’s, Malorie called them, “Viens ici!” They were all loaded up as the last strip of duct tape was applied to the WET FLOOR sign. The Jeep pulled out of the parking lot, turned right, and then left up Frame Road. A short round of introductions and pleasantries were exchanged with Mrs. Townsend, their new passenger.

Joshua downshifted into second gear and slowly approached the first barrier, an old Pontiac station wagon from an era when Americans built cars that measured sheet metal in acres. The young man situated behind the engine block saw the WET FLOOR sign as a signal and waved them through, speaking into his radio.

Joshua slowly cleared the second barrier and was again waved ahead, then crept through the serpentine section up the hill toward Sandy Grove Missionary Baptist Church, where he was greeted by a young, overweight man holding an Icom radio. Malorie rolled down the window and the man said, “Hey, you must be Joshua; I’m Lou. I see that you took the extra passenger.” Leaning over to talk to Mrs. Townsend, he said, “Ma’am, how are you?”

Mrs. Townsend answered, “I’ve been better, but thank you for all of your help. I was visiting my grandchildren in Sutton; now all I want is to get home. I haven’t been able to get hold of my husband, Dale. The kids all insist that I carry this stupid cell phone, and it hasn’t worked since about noon today.”

“We noticed the same thing, but us hams are prepared for that!” Lou held up his Icom radio and then continued, “We are getting reports that the roads from here to Dunbar are passable, no significant reports of civil unrest. Keep that WET FLOOR sign on your brush guard; I can relay to other hams farther down to look out for you.”

Joshua said, “Will do.”

“How are you fixed for water?” Lou asked.

“We’re good on water, food, and also fuel, thanks to some prudent planning by my sister back there,” Malorie said.

“Once you cross the river you should be okay. Godspeed.” He tapped the hood of the Jeep like some sergeant in a war movie, and they were once again making progress westward.

15

BYPASS

That’s what happened under communism—and increasingly, it’s happening in America. As Joseph Sobran put it: “Need” now means wanting someone else’s money. “Greed” means wanting to keep your own. “Compassion” is when a politician arranges the transfer.

—John Stossel

En Route Through West Virginia—October, the First Year

The Jeep rolled slowly along winding roads. Malorie had already committed the next portion of the map to memory, so she knew to turn right at the intersection, as it was the most westerly option in the unfamiliar terrain.

Mrs. Townsend, or Beatrice as she preferred to be called, gave them exact directions on how to navigate to Nitro, West Virginia, where they would be looking for the Third Street Bridge. No one else in the Jeep could yet appreciate just how far out of the way they had had to go to circumnavigate Charleston, but it increasingly became clear just how providential it was that they’d met her. Beatrice explained that she was the wife of Pastor Dale Townsend of St. Paul Baptist church in St. Albans, and that he had been golf partners with Pastor Townsend since the two of them graduated seminary together more than forty years ago. “I never would have thought that law and order could diminish so quickly!” Megan let out a long, low whistle and nodded. “In all of my years in colaboring with Dale, we have been on dozens of mission trips and we have seen what happens when man decides not to live according to God’s law and what a reckless experiment that is—but here in West Virginia? I’m sorry; I shouldn’t talk this way in front of your boys.”