Free The Nightworld by Jack Blaine

“where my boy went, or whether he plans to come back here. It’s a wide world out there for sure, and I figure the best thing I can do is to wait for him here. I don’t even have the first clue where I’d head if I were to start off looking. But you—you obviously thought you had a place to go in that car. Am I right?” He waits for my answer.
    “I guess. I thought I’d head into the city, see if I could find a friend of mine.”
    “The city.” Gus sits back, contemplating his bottle. “The city sounds rough, from what they say on the television.”
    “Looks to me like it’s getting pretty rough out here,” I say, but I know what he means. The news coverage is all flaming storefronts and roaming gangs.
    “Well.” Gus sets the leather bag on the table and pushes back its flap. “I brought some things that might be useful to you. I figured I could make a trade for some food, if you have any to spare, but I’d actually just take beer if you have any more.”
    “What if I didn’t have anything to trade?”
    Aw, hell, then I’d just give you the stuff. Not like I’ll be needing it.” He pulls some maps out of the bag, and a ring with two keys on it.
    I don’t see what good any of it will do me. But I’m starting to feel bad for the guy. “I have more beer. You’re welcome to it.”
    “That’s good news, son. Now listen up. If you’re going to go to the city, you’re looking at a journey. It’s not so easy, like just zipping in there in your car, now. You’d best stay off the roads, and I would say travel at night, but it looks like that won’t be required advice now. I dug up some maps for you.” He points to a well-creased map of the county. “And here’s something you might want to keep very safe.” He reaches into the back and pulls out a road atlas—the kind that’s bound with a plastic spiral. The words United States Road Atlas are printed on the cover in red letters.
    “What am I going to need that for?”
    “One never knows, son.” Gus takes another drink. “It looks to me like what we have here is an apocalypse. Do you know what that is?”
    It’s all I can do not to laugh. “Are you kidding me? I’m the generation who gets to hear it predicted every forty seconds on some news show. So yeah, I think I’m familiar.”
    “Fair enough.” He smoothes the cover of the atlas. “Knowledge will fade, wisdom will falter.” He shrugs. “I forget the rest of the poem. But you’ll need all the information you can get, and if the power goes, and people keep burning shit up, you better keep what you can close. This atlas might be one of the last ones that survive, depending on how bad this thing gets.”
    “Wow. You’re not serious, are you?”
    Gus just looks at me. “Why in the world would I be joking at a time like this? The world is ending, my friend. The things we take for granted now, like that atlas, they are going to be gone like that . In a wink of your eye.”
    We both take a big gulp of beer.
    “Now this . . . this is also important.” He picks up the key ring. “This will open a locker in the city, the contents of which could be helpful. I’ll write down the address for you.”
    “What’s in the locker?” I’m thinking maybe this guy has watched too many sorcerer movies.
    “It’s a bike. A very special bike, to me. Never thought I’d be handing it over to some kid.”
    I don’t know what to say. If Gus thinks some ancient ten-speed is going to help me out, I’m going to let him think it.
    Gus spends the next few hours reviewing my supplies. He adds a few things from his son’s house, like a hatchet and a small pistol. When I tell him I already have two guns, he says without the pistol he’ll still have five.
    “Can’t have too many guns, son.”
    He makes several trips back and forth between houses as he sees what I do and don’t have. He brings three half-full disposable lighters, four cans of tuna, and some rope. It’s stuff I know I can use,