West Coast Beach
Chapter 8: Mid-morning
Chapter 8: Mid-morning
It was now mid-morning. And the group was stuck on the side of the road, somewhere near “Black’s Beach”. Near an off-ramp to the freeway. Rafael continued to lift the hood of the SUV and fruitlessly started tinkering with the engine.
John: Why don’t I head north. And you head south and we both look for water and, containers to transport the water to the radiator of the SUV.
Tom: Okay, that sounds like a good idea.
Tom and John both headed off in their designated directions, Tom took the path of going through some residential neighborhoods on his journey south.
The sun glimmered off the black asphalt, creating a mirage. As his feet moved from the hot asphalt to the grassy yard, there was a noticeable temperature change.
Tom was about one hundred yards away from the park and SUV when a pack of feral dogs started chasing him. Tom barely made it to a fence he climbed over to escape the feral dogs.
Tom: That was close
Neighbor 1: Yea… That was close,
Neighbor 2: That pack of dogs has been growing larger every day. At night, they Rome the streets and alleys looking for garbage. Sometimes they leave quite a mess.
Tom: My car overheated about one hundred yards from here, you wouldn’t happen to have water and a container I could use to carry it would you.
Neighbor 1: I have plenty of water, but I can’t think of anything in my garage you can use for containers to carry the water in.
Neighbor 2: I can’t think of anything either.
Disappointed, and making sure the feral dog pack had left. Tom continued on his way southward. He thought he needed to hurry to make the unproductive time he had wasted
John selected a different kind of path. He stayed close to the freeway while traveling north. One big disadvantage his choice has over Tom’s was the dangerous proximity and the smog-filled air he had to breathe from the traffic.
The mid-mourning sun out-matched the flimsy hat John was wearing, as the perspiration from his brow was starting to soak John’s headdress. The sun’s radiation also heated the concrete John was walking on to a temperature so hot you could fry an egg on the walking path.
There were signs that said, “No Pedestrians” where John was walking. Much of the time John had no other choice, where he walked. There were no other paths built for pedestrians.
The wood nettles were too high for John to straddle. As he struggled through the weeds that were overgrown along the path, as soon as John traversed the weeds, he noticed rashes forming where his bare skin made contact with the nettles. The rashes caused by the nettles were uncomfortable. John remained focused on his primary objective, to get water for the group's vehicle's radiator.
When John was walking north, he noticed a gas station about half a mile away. As he approached the gas station, a middle-aged man came out to greet him.
John: You wouldn’t happen to have any radiator water containers I could use to carry water to my vehicle with, would you?
Gas station attendant: Would old milk containers do?
John: Perfect.
John proceeded to take two old milk containers filled with water back with him, Two milk containers were all that he could carry.
It was approaching noon when Dave and Rafael, (Dave and Rafael had stayed with the disabled vehicle to keep watch over it, while most of the group members rested, out of the sun in the park.)