Less than five miles farther on, Trim flew off the freeway and down a smaller road leading east toward the huge mountain he had seen earlier. He disappeared for a minute and then flew back again, circling overhead. Clearly, he intended for Logan to follow, so Logan did.
This new road traveled in a straight line through residential neighborhoods and strip malls, shops and schools, a community of thousands in better days, but mostly deserted now. If there were people, they were staying out of sight. All Logan saw as he passed were packs of dogs and stray cats, and these didn’t look particularly friendly. He kept to the middle of the road and stayed watchful for any signs of danger, but nothing approached.
He passed through the heart of the community, buildings standing silent and empty, and entered a new stretch of countryside. Here the trees grew thick and skeletal about structures that were on the verge of collapse. Dark interiors were visible through missing doors and windows, and shadows draped everything in pools of black. There was an unpleasant feel to everything, as if the destructive forces that had claimed the people who once lived here were still hungry.
He had reached the far edge of the community when Trim veered off the road and landed on the roof of a garage set back in a tangle of collapsed fencing and rusted-out vehicles. Logan left the road and walked over to where the bird roosted. By now he was beginning to understand better Trim’s method of communication and knew what was expected of him. Even so, he was cautious. He hadn’t missed seeing the clutch of lantern eyes peering out at him from inside one of the buildings he had passed earlier.
Behind the garage, hidden from the road, was a metal-sided shed with locks closing off a heavily reinforced door. The metal was rusted and weather-stained by now, but still solidly in place. Trim left the garage roof and settled atop the shed. Logan stood looking up at him for a moment, and then walked over and tested the locks. There was no give at all. He looked up again at the bird, who looked down at him. He sighed heavily. Then he brought up the staff and burned the locks away.
The door to the shed swung open.
Inside sat a bulky, four-wheeled vehicle of considerable size. It was covered with a fitted tarp, but he could make out what it was through rips and holes in the worn fabric draped over it. An AV of some sort, similar to the Lightning but much bigger. He walked over, pulled off the cloth, and stepped back in surprise.
He was looking at a Ventra 5000, a huge, muscular machine that was in near-mint condition. There were a few dings and scratches on the paint, and there was dust and bits of debris coating the finish, but aside from that it was untouched. He smiled despite himself. He had seen only one of these machines in his entire life, and that one hadn’t been working. Ventras were famous, attack vehicles that surpassed even the Lightning in firepower and strength. The Lightning was quick and mobile, but the Ventra could take a direct hit from a shoulder rocket and keep going. In his days with Michael, stories of Ventras were legion. But all of them supposedly were destroyed during the militia wars, appropriated by the governments and sacrificed in battles that no one won. He had never thought to see another in his lifetime.
He walked over to the driver’s door and pulled the release. The door opened with a soft hiss of pistons relaxing, and lights came on in the interior. The solar cells that powered the beast weren’t dead, which meant that the Ventra might still run. He couldn’t believe his good fortune. With a machine like this, his journey would take only a fraction of the time of walking. Not to mention the protection he would enjoy on his way.
He glanced back outside and found Trim sitting on an old barrel, staring at him with his saucer eyes. Guess luck wasn’t a part of the equation, he thought. But how in the world did an owl know that a Ventra 5000 was inside this shed? Maybe Trim was something more than he appeared. Maybe the Lady, in sending the owl, had known what Logan needed better than he did.
He found the hood release and pulled it, lifted the hood, and peered inside. Eight huge cells rested in their cradles, their power indicators pulsing with a soft green light. All charged and ready to go. He walked to the rear of the vehicle, found the storage compartments for the additional cells, opened the lids, and discovered that these cells were not only fully charged but attached to charging terminals, as well. He stared for a moment, and then climbed up to peer at the Ventra’s broad roof. Solar collectors were built into the armor in narrow strips.
He climbed down again, shaking his head in amazement. Of all the things in the world he expected to find, a Ventra was among the last.