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shooting the breeze and laughing at times. Two of them were smoking cigarettes. Joe figured they were either demanding a toll to cross the bridge or they were keeping people out of the area.

His limited options of either trying to cross the bayou downstream, cemented in on both sides, or paying whatever toll the guards required wasn’t looking too good at the moment. Crossing the bayou and taking a chance with the currents didn’t seem like a good idea either. If his clothes became soaked it could lead to hypothermia, or he could drown by getting caught in debris or a submerged car, not to mention diseases he could catch from the filthy water. The bayous in and around Houston were notorious for stolen cars getting dumped in them, or a drunk driver taking a sharp curve near the bayou, overcompensating, then ending up in the dark water, only for the skeletal remains to be found years later.

Joe decided his best option was to meet the men head on.

“Hello!” he yelled. Getting their attention was better than getting a bullet by accident from a trigger-happy guard.

The men turned their attention on Joe. The older one flicked his cigarette to the ground and rubbed it out with his boot. Another one flicked his cigarette over the guardrails and into the bayou.

“Whoa there.” The man who spoke first was the oldest of the three, had a bedraggled beard, and wore camo. “That’s far enough. What’dya want?”

“Only need to cross!” Joe yelled back. Sizing up the three, he figured they were probably father and sons.

“What for?”

“I need to get to the zoo.”

“The zoo?” The man chuckled. “Boys,” he said, addressing his companions, “this fine young man wants to go to the zoo.”

“What for?” the youngest one asked. “You want to take a spin on the kiddie rides or maybe the choo-choo train?”

A chorus of laughter erupted.

Joe wasn’t amused. “All I need is to cross the bridge, get to the zoo, come back this way, and you’ll never see me again.” Joe stepped closer.

The head man turned serious. “Why do you want to go to the zoo so bad?”

“Supplies. I’ve got a friend at the stadium who’s been injured. She needs medical supplies.”

“Then go to the hospital. You’ve got your choice of hospitals at the med center. It’s not too far up the road.”

“Already crossed my mind,” Joe said. “By now, those places will be under siege by drug lords looking for opioids and anything else they can sell on the street.”

“It’s not our problem. This area is cordoned off from trespassers, and of now, you’re trespassing. Go back from where you came from.”

“Did you watch any of the Super Bowl?” Joe asked.

“Yeah, why?”

“Did you see Lexi Carter sing the National Anthem?”

“We did, just before the electricity went out. What does she have to do with any of this?”

“She’s the one who needs help,” Joe explained. “If you don’t let me through, her death will be on your hands.”

The man gauged his son’s reactions. “What’dya say, boys? Should we believe him?”

The two brothers, both in the late teens, exchanged glances. The youngest one nodded to the older one he agreed to let the man cross.

“Dad, it’s okay. One of my friends saw Lexi at a restaurant once, and she even let him take a selfie of them together. He said she’s nice.”

“Hmm. I suppose it’ll be alright. What time you coming back this way?” the man asked.

“Hopefully before nightfall.”

“We’ll still be here. Good luck to you.”

“Thank you,” Joe said. “I won’t forgot how you helped me out. I’m Joe Buck.”

“Frank Salinas. These are my boys Owen and Kenny.”

“Nice to meet you.” Joe shook hands with each one.

As Joe walked away, Kenny yelled, “Bring me back some cotton candy!”

“I’ll try,” Joe chuckled. “No promises.”

~ ~ ~

Joe hadn’t planned on being stopped and questioned, and the walk was taking longer than expected. He had two choices—either walk straight down Main Street or cut through the medical complex and take a backroad to the zoo to save time. He decided on the latter.

When he came to Holcombe, he took a right, leading to the hospitals. The world-renowned medical center housed a variety of hospitals catering to patients from all over the world stricken with cancer and other life-threatening diseases.

Normally bustling with activity with cars whizzing by, buses spouting exhaust, and people walking from building to building, the area was uncharacteristically quiet. Joe wove his way around deserted cars and buses rendered inoperable due to the EMP. Anything dependent upon electricity or electrical components ceased working. Joe occasionally witnessed an old car puttering down the street, weaving around stalled cars.

He strolled past the massive parking garages then came to the emergency room entrance. An ambulance had its doors open so Joe peeked in.

A crow pecked at the face of a corpse strapped into the gurney, and when it saw Joe, the bird squawked, flapped its wings, and flew out of the cramped space. Joe ducked. The horror show didn’t end there because the valet parking area was littered with abandoned bodies, some in hospital gowns. Joe didn’t dare step foot in the hospital for fear he’d get shanghaied and forced to work. If there were any living patients left in the hospital, they’d die soon. They just didn’t know it yet.

Joe emerged from the tree-lined street and as he rounded the corner into the open, he stopped. Across the side street was the entrance to a ten-story parking garage, and waltzing down the ramp were four thugs.

Each carried a pillowcase, busting at the seams and loaded down with their haul. From the shattered glass near the cars, it was obvious the thugs had been breaking into cars and stealing valuables.

Outnumbered and unarmed, Joe’s options didn’t leave

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