Road to Nowhere(Lee Conrad) The North wasn’t what they expected it to be. Having lived in Florida their whole lives Sarah and Xavier were used to heat and humidity, but to experience it in New York in mid-December was disconcerting. They both remembered pictures of Christmas in New York with mounds of snow. There wasn’t a flake to be found.
The young couple had crossed the Pennsylvania border to New York among a long line of traffic and into the suburbs of the small city of Binghamton. Now, as morning dragged on, they waited in line to gas up their car at a convenience store where chaos was the order of the day. Their goal; drive to the Canadian border. Friends on Facebook said they read the climate was cooler there and border officials would let them in as tourists. Once there they would decide how to stay illegally.

Ahead of them, a man shouted at his phone.
He turned to them. “News says the border at Canada is closed. Too many people trying to cross. We ain’t getting over now.” He broke down in sobs as he leaned in the window of his car and told his family.
“We should have left sooner, Xavier.”
“I know. Nobody thought it would get this bad.”
“Yes, they did. I did. You weren’t paying attention!”
Sarah remembered their arguments. Xavier thought all the warnings were scare tactics or a scam. It took six months of temperatures soaring to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit, the electric grid in the southwestern and southern states failing and thousands of heat-related deaths to make him realize that what Sarah had been warning him about was here, now.
Then the panic hit.
Sarah’s mother had urged them to leave and head north telling them they had full lives ahead. Her and her husband’s lives were at an end and come what may they were going to stay put. Sarah’s father remained in the cellar cleaning his guns, morose and in shock. Her mom said she would pray that God would fix the weather. Sarah wondered if God was asleep.
Xavier's mother was in a coma in a healthcare facility after a drunk driver slammed into her after she left work at Walmart. He knew she was the lucky one, oblivious to the collapse around her. He hoped enough medical workers would remain to maintain the facility, but he had his doubts. When he said goodbye to her the week before there was no response. Gone were the laughter and smiles. Hugs that would soothe him after getting beat up at school, just memories. He struggled to maintain his emotions. Taking her with them was out of the question. Hell, he didn’t know if he and Sarah would survive. He left the facility downcast. He ran to his car, ashamed of abandoning her.

The line moved ahead, and they gassed up the car. The owner of the convenience store came out to them. Sweat trickled down his flushed face and his white shirt was soddened.
“Not much gas left. I’m shutting down the electric chargers too. There might be a few things in the store you might need so get it while you can. There are only two bags of ice left, grab those too. I am closing as soon as the gas is gone. You don’t want to be around when I tell these other folks we are dry and I’m closing. They will probably destroy the place.” He looked around furtively. “Even the people who live here have reached the breaking point. There has been massive looting and the police have given up.” He sighed, out of breath. “You know you can’t get over the border, right? Besides it is no better there than here. Don’t know what people were thinking. Rumors online probably. But good luck to you anyhow.”

Dejected, Sarah and Xavier got back into the car. Sarah took over the driving while Xavier looked at a map on his cell phone. Sarah’s was plugged into the car’s charger port. Next to Xavier was an old Rand McNally Road map, just in case the cell phone towers went down, the GPS didn’t work, or any other misfortune.
"No sense getting on 81 North now. Let's find a campground. Good thing we packed the gear,” said Xavier.
Sarah looked at him, tears running down her face.
“Why are we doing this. Maybe we should have just stayed in Florida.”
“This certainly is a bad time to second guess the trip now,” Xavier challenged. He dipped his head. “We will be alright,” he soothed, aware that the heat had made him testy.
They found a state park 15 miles out of the city off a two-lane country road. Part of it ran parallel to Route 81 which was bumper-to-bumper traffic northbound. The entrance to the park was lined with cars and a state police roadblock was set up. Next to the entrance was a large sign that said Temporary Refuge.
They waited in line as the police took down the license plates and identification of everyone.
When it was their turn Sarah faced a stoic trooper, his face red and coated with sweat.
“License and identification for both of you.”
She gave him their licenses.
The trooper tapped in the information on an iPad.
“Follow the signs to the golf course.”
He waved them on.
“Well, that’s a strange place to send us,” said Xavier.

They passed five camping areas packed with vehicles and pulled into the parking lot of the scorched brown golf course. National Guard soldiers waved them on. A mass of humanity stretched from the 1st hole to the 18th with assorted cars, trucks, tents, and campers. The clubhouse, now a military headquarters, was ringed with vehicles and soldiers. Some of them were unloading food, supplies, and water for the assembled climate refugees. Across the road from the golf course a small lake, algae-infested and shallow, kept company with a playground absent children due to the afternoon heat.
“There is a small spot near the tree line. I don't want us to be in the middle of all that," Xavier said, nodding his head toward a conglomeration of vehicles, RVs, and campers.
Sarah pulled into a small spot next to an SUV with Vermont plates. A couple that looked to be in their late sixties sat near the tree line in lawn chairs.
She put her window down and called to them.
“I don’t mean to squeeze you.”
“No problem. You got just enough room.”
They got out of their car and went over to the couple.
Xavier held out his hand. “I’m Xavier and this is Sarah. We’re from Florida and we were heading north. This is as far as we got.”
The man shook Xavier’s hand. “I’m Glenn Wheeler and this is my wife, Doreen.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said Doreen.
"I could tell from your accent you weren't Yankee's," said Glenn good-naturedly. “And the plates on your car.”
“You heading back to Vermont?” asked Xavier.
"We were but that has all changed. Did you hear about that freak storm that went up the East Coast and turned into eastern New York and Vermont two days ago? They called it an atmospheric river. 20 inches of rain in 12 hours. Unbelievable. We were coming back from Cleveland when Doreen got a call from her brother telling us roads were washed out in the whole state. Lots of flooding and whole towns were cut off. Where we live… well, the creeks became raging torrents down the hills and wiped out the village. Our house is still there but in the neighbor’s backyard. Swept right off its foundation. Doreen's brother and his family are in a high school gymnasium after his house got flooded. They and others are sleeping on the bleachers because there are a couple of inches of water on the floor of the basketball court."
“We were just trying to find somewhere cooler than Florida. You guys got hammered. What are you going to do? Do you have supplies and things?"
“I always make sure Glenn has emergency provisions and things in the car before we go on a trip. Cooler with stuff, blankets, prescriptions, first aid, and snacks. You just never know…. "
Doreen's voice trailed off and she stared at the ground. Glenn reached over and grabbed her hand.
“I always made fun of her for having me load all this stuff for short trips.” He smiled at his wife. “We will be fine, honey.”
“Xavier, if you have a tent, you best get set up before it gets dark. We will be right here. No campfires obviously," he said pointing to the leafless trees and the dead leaves under them. “One thing I miss here are the birds chirping in the morning. Haven’t heard a one since we’ve been here.”
Xavier and Sarah left the couple in their thoughts and went about setting up their tent, unloading camping mattresses and sleeping bags.
“I doubt if we will be cold tonight, Xavier. We probably won’t need these sleeping bags.”
“We’ll just sleep on top of them, more cushion against the ground.”

Once the sun went down and the unrelenting daytime heat dissipated the couple sat down to eat some of the perishables they had in their cooler. The golf course came alive and children thankful for the setting sun ran over to the playground with parents holding flashlights close behind.
Sarah frowned at her cold chicken and Swiss cheese sandwich. “I miss our microwave.”
Xavier’s face was strained.
“I’m worried about food. I don’t know how long we will be here and I feel like we’re trapped between a rock and a hard place. Can’t go back south and now the border is closed.”
“We will just have to eat less. We have two coolers filled, but we are going to need ice again,” Sarah said.
Xavier called over to Glenn.
“Hey, Glenn. How is it here?”
“It hasn’t been too bad. The New York State National Guard helped everyone out the best they could on such short notice. They have also set up on the border with Canada to keep people from crossing over illegally. The Canadian government hasn't been too pleased with an invasion of Americans. I picked up a news broadcast from an AM station in Toronto last night. Guy said now Americans know what it is like to be migrants trying to flee across a border. Seems some people got shot trying to cross. So, I guess we stay here for a bit until things sort themselves out. Got nowhere else to go.”
Glenns’ wife said little. The worry and despair in her eyes said it all.

As they were talking two National Guard soldiers walked over to them. Xavier noticed the guns they carried.
One soldier, a young man, tall and with sandy-colored hair called over to them.
"Everyone ok here? If you need anything just ask. We just got another shipment in but not sure how long it will last so we are rationing things out."
The other soldier, a short black woman with sergeant stripes stood off to the side looking at Xavier’s car.
“You people are a long way from home.”
“Yes ma’am,” said Xavier. “I am beginning to think we made a mistake getting on this road to nowhere.”
“I’m Sergeant Wilson. My partner in this sector is Corporal Jamison. You probably saw that long line of traffic on 81 North, well we expect all those people to turn around or find a safe haven. Locals aren’t going to like it. We’ve closed the entrance to the golf course. We can’t handle any more people.”
She looked at them with borderline hostility. Her family was in Syracuse while she was stuck here, taking care of strangers instead of her own.
“I am amazed people thought they could outrun the climate. Did you all really think there was some kind of barrier between hot and cold on the border?” She stopped. “Sorry about that. Heat getting to me. There is what is called a heat dome that has been in Central Canada and now moving into Ontario and Quebec. It sparked wildfires and freak rain storms everywhere and the smoke is headed this way. A couple of chemical plants were overrun by the fires making things even worse. Created what are called firestorms. We are telling people to check if they still have COVID masks in their vehicles. If not, we have a supply."
“From the frying pan into the fire,” said Glenn.
“Literally,” said Sarah.

In the morning Sarah woke up to Xavier coughing. Her throat was scratchy and she thought she was coming down with something. Her long brown hair was matted to her face from sweat. She looked at her cell phone and noticed it was 8 a.m. but the morning sun was subdued. She heard coughing around the golf course and reached over to Xavier to wake him from his sleep.
She unzipped the flap of the tent and looked out. The blue sky was gone, replaced by orange haze. The sun was barely visible. A toxic taste assaulted her tongue and the air smelled like a thousand campfires. Around her, more people were coughing in the morning gloom. She gave Xavier a mask from the car and put one on herself. Glenn and Doreen had just put theirs on.
National Guard troops wearing n95 masks were walking around the golf course handing out masks to those who didn't have them. They told people to stay inside the cars, tents, and campers.
The two soldiers from the day before came over to the foursome. All had masks on.
“Good. You have your masks on,” said Sergeant Wilson, her voice muffled by the mask. “This smoke is not to be taken lightly. Lots of toxic crap in it. If you are healthy, you can handle a few hours without masks, but I recommend against it. Anyone older like you folks,” she said looking at Glenn and Doreen, “need to wear them 24/7. Got it? This smoke came down to us quicker than the scientists thought.”
“How long will it last?” asked Sarah.
“No one knows. We’ve been having communication problems all morning. Can’t reach our units to the north,” said Corporal Jamison.
Sergeant Wilson gave him a say no more look and then added, “Depends on which way the wind blows.”
The two soldiers walked along the tree line as a hot wind picked up blowing dead leaves and debris among the refugees. A strange rumbling surrounded them.
They both looked out over the golf course and to the darkening sky. Shrieking erupted among the refugees.
“Oh, my God,” said Corporal Jamison.

To the north, an ominous black cloud stretched for miles across the horizon. Fed by the unrelenting heat and wildfires an atmospheric tidal wave of toxic ash and rain moving at category 4 hurricane strength pushed its way towards the golf course. Trees beyond the course buckled and snapped. Pandemonium broke out as people ran to find shelter. It was hopeless as vehicles and people were tossed about by the wind and suffocated by the toxic ash. Sarah grabbed Xavier's hand as they stood paralyzed in horror. Glenn hugged Doreen closer to him as the maelstrom came down like a shroud and swept everything away.

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