That’s the God’s-honest truth, mister. I swear it on my liver,’ the old man promised.

‘All right,’ said Ed, and tossed him the can of corned beef. ‘Don’t try eating all that at one sitting. You’ll be sick as a dog.’

Pearson may have been starving for five days, but he caught the can of corned beef as neatly as a professional ballplayer. Then he was off, hopping and skipping over the ashes with his prize held against his chest. Ed called, ‘Pearson!’ but it was too late. The old man was gone.

Ed walked slowly back to the Chevy. Shearson had managed to control his coughing now, but he was breathing in deep, shuddering wheezes which sounded as if every tube in his bronchial system was clogged with mucus.

‘Are you ever going to let us rest, you infernal farmer?’ he wanted to know. ‘Or are you going to trail us around the west for the rest of our days?’

‘The senator’s sick,’ said Peter Kaiser. ‘Unless we get him someplace where he can rest, he’s going to get a whole lot worse.’

Ed said, ‘My wife and child are apparently barricaded in a supermarket on Highland Avenue, along with a whole bunch of other people. From what that old hobo said, they have plenty of supplies, maybe enough for a year. It makes sense to me personally to try to go join them. I mean, my family’s there. But I also think it makes sense for all of us to try to get in there. Even if we don’t stay for more than a day or two, at least it’ll give us a breathing-space to get ourselves orientated, and decided what we’re going to do next.’

Shearson wiped his face with his handkerchief, and coughed. ‘For goodness’ sake, Hardesty, stop giving us lectures in logic and feasibility and take us somewhere where we can get something to eat. And drink, too, if that’s not too much to ask.’

‘Senator?’ said Karen, and passed Shearson a Dixie cup of lukewarm water.

‘I shall have nightmares about tepid, plastic-tasting water for the rest of my life,’ said Shearson, swallowing it noisily. ‘Do you know something? I’m so much thinner than I was last week that if I stood up, my pants would drop to my ankles.’

‘You could have fooled me,’ said Ed, glancing at Shearson’s huge belly.

Della said, ‘I don’t think we have much of a choice. I vote we try to get into the supermarket.’

‘I suppose that means I go too,’ put in Shearson. Della gave him a grin like caustic soda.

‘Okay,’ said Ed. ‘I’ll go have a word with everybody else in the convoy and tell them what we’ve decided. They’ll all be able to stay with us, or go to their own way, whatever they want.’

‘What about me?’ asked Peter Kaiser.