Escape (21 page)

Convinced they were in no immediate danger, he slowed the vehicle to a halt to study them closer.

“I don’t like this, Dad. Can we keep going?”

“I’m sorry, honey. I just want to get a closer look. Something about them seems…different.”

The creature closest to the vehicle had once been a woman. Her long, stringy hair fell in front of her face, but he could see the whites of her eyes as they wandered from the SUV to the road. Without warning, the woman-creature collapsed on the ground, convulsing.

“Are they dying?”

Dan paused.

“It certainly looks like it.”

The creature next to her—once an older man with a pointed chin and white and gray stubble—threw a pale arm in their direction and then fell sideways to join his companion.

A few days prior, one of the agents they’d encountered had indicated that the virus was to last a few weeks. By the looks of it, things were coming to an end much sooner. The thought filled Dan with mixed emotions: on one hand he felt a wave of hope, on the other a hint of sadness for the victims.

He fixed his gaze on the two writhing creatures on the ground. Since collapsing, neither had regained their footing. Their cries filled the air—soft, high-pitched moans that wafted over the highway and into the desert beyond.

For a split second, he wondered if they could feel pain. He certainly hoped not.

“We better get moving,” he said.

He let his foot off the brake and continued driving, eyes focused on the road ahead.

By the time they reached the Texas border it was mid-afternoon. In the hours preceding, they’d seen several more creatures on the highway, all in the same condition. They’d seen no signs of any additional survivors.

For the most part, Dan had been able to keep to the breakdown lane, riding adjacent to the littered cars and motorcycles. Now, as they approached the New Mexico-Texas border, the lanes were clogged solid.

Dan brought the SUV to a halt and surveyed the scene. The interstate was a wall of cars. Were it not for the desert around them, Dan could have easily mistaken the highway for a city street in the middle of rush hour.

Vehicles were wedged and sandwiched in every direction, motorcycles and RV’s all fighting for the same spot in the road. Beyond them was a silent blockade of military vehicles.

It was the first glimmer of government intervention he’d seen.

The sight of the camouflaged vehicles gave Dan a sudden chill, though he didn’t know why. In the past, the greens and blacks would have represented a sense of order and stability. Now, they were a sordid reminder that the government had failed.

He let his gaze drift from one side of the highway to the other. In the middle of the road was a median; overhead was a bridge. In neither direction did he see an indication that someone was alive.

He threw the SUV into park.

“What are you doing, Dad?”

“It looks like nobody’s home. But there’s a possibility we can reach someone from one of the military vehicles.”

“Do you think someone will be able to help us?”

“It’s a possibility.”

Dan looked back and forth between the road and daughter. The distance between the SUV and the military blockade was a few hundred feet. He expected her face to be lined with worry, but instead she met his eyes with resolve.

“Go, Dad. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. He handed her the 9mm from his lap.

“I’ll keep you in my line of sight at all times. If you see something and I don’t, honk the horn.”

“Got it.”

He smiled and patted her head, then dipped into the back seat for another weapon. Pistol in hand, he stepped out onto the open highway.

He shut the door and scoured the area.

In order to proceed, they’d need to drive off the road. The desert landscape was getting more and more difficult to navigate—a new crop of green shrubs and bushes had appeared at the road’s edge. Although they hadn’t had any issues yet, he hoped they didn’t pop a tire.

He glared at the five military Humvees that were parked behind a row of barracks.

I wish we could take one of those.

But getting them out would be impossible. Each was flanked on all sides by pedestrian vehicles. There would be no way to get them free.

He let his gaze drift up and down the road. He could only imagine the panic that must have inspired the scene. All around him were bodies—both on the road and in the cars—and most were days old.

As he walked up the interstate, he came across a few bodies that looked like the infected.

Like the rest, these were lifeless and still, but these were fresh.

Is it over?

He shook his head at the scene and kept moving. After all they’d been through, it was hard to believe that it might come to an end. The last week had seemed like a never-ending battle, a war that held no victors.

He closed in on one of the Humvees. The door was ajar; a dead soldier in army gear was hanging out of the driver’s seat. Dan worked his way to the passenger’s side of the vehicle, then he opened the door and got inside. He rifled through the interior, finding a few rations and some papers. None of the paperwork made any sense.

He was reaching for the glove box when he heard a hissing noise that resembled static. It was coming from the dead solider in the driver’s seat. He followed the noise until he found the source—a handheld radio by the man’s feet.

He picked it up and held down the button.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

He let go of the button, but the fuzz persisted.

“Hello?”

He twisted several knobs and tried again, but there was no response.

Dammit.

He set the radio on the seat and wrenched open the glove box, but found nothing. Discouraged, he slid out of the vehicle. His boots had just hit the asphalt when he heard a voice answer him on the radio.

“Johnson?”

He leapt back into the vehicle and retrieved the radio, tapped the button. His heart was pounding.

“Hello? Can you hear me?”

“Yes, I hear you.”

“This is Officer Dan Lowery from the St. Matthews Arizona police department. Whom am I speaking to?”

“This is Lt. Simmons from the United States Army at Fort Bragg. Are you alone, Officer?”

Dan glanced at the inanimate figure next to him. The soldier’s eyes were rolled back in his head, his mouth agape.

“I think so. I’m with my daughter, but it doesn’t look like anyone else survived.”

The radio was silent for a second. Dan repeated himself.

“Did you catch that?” he asked.

“I heard you, Officer.”

“We’re on I-40 at the border to Texas, on the New Mexico side. Can you send help?”

“I would if I could. But I’m the only one here.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone else is dead, Officer Lowery.”

The line returned to silence, and Dan felt his chest tighten. The hope he’d felt just seconds before dimmed.

“Are you OK?”

“I wish I could say I was, but I think I’ve been infected. And even if I wasn’t, I’m surrounded on all sides. There’s no way out of this room I’m in.”

“Maybe I can help you, if you’ll—“

“Believe me, Officer, if there was a way out of here, I’d know how to get to it. And in any case, it’s too late for me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Lieutenant?”

“Yes, sir.”

“How bad is this thing?”

“It’s bad. As far as we know, the southwest is gone. We’re working on preserving the borders to the surrounding states, but last I heard, it wasn’t looking good.”

“How about Oklahoma? Has it hit there yet? That’s where we’re headed.”

“I think you might be out of luck, Officer. As far as I know, it’s already crept over the state line. Even if you could get there safely, I wouldn’t advise it.”

Dan clutched the phone, his hand shaking. His entire plan—his last remaining hope—had just been shut down.

“What would you suggest we do?”

“I’d head north. Try to get ahead of this thing, if you can.”

“Do you know if—“

“I’m sorry, Officer, but I need to go.”

“But Lieutenant, I still have more—“

“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to finish this letter I’m writing to my kids before it’s too late. Best of luck, Officer.”

Dan tried speaking several more times, but the man on the other end was gone. He stared out across the interstate at his daughter, over the wreckage that had become their lives, and did his best not to scream.

“What’d the man say, Daddy?”

“He didn’t know much, honey. He’s trying to get to someplace safe, like us.”

“Are we going to meet up with him?”

“I don’t think so. It’d be too far of a drive, and too dangerous.”

Dan steered the vehicle off the road, weaving around a pair of bushes while his daughter peered through the windshield at the road ahead. Beside them, a green sign announced their arrival into Texas.

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going to Oklahoma.”

“We’re still going to Aunt Meredith’s, right?”

“Of course.”

“How much longer do we have?”

“We’re almost there. If we get moving, we should be able to make it before nightfall.”

“Daddy?”

“Yes?”

“I can’t wait to see her.”

“Me, neither, sweetheart. Me neither.”

26

M
eredith held the board to the living room window while John tapped the nail.

“Is this the last one?” she asked.

“I think so. We should do another walk-thru to be sure.”

In the past few hours, they’d systematically boarded up all the lower windows in the house. They’d started by using the wood in the furniture shop, then they’d taken loose pieces of wood they’d found in Meredith’s barn.

When they were finished, Meredith sat on the edge of the couch to catch her breath. Her arms were sore from the lifting, cutting, and nailing, but it was a small price to pay for security.

Even with the windows boarded, she knew they wouldn’t be safe enough.

Despite still being in danger, being at home and surrounded by familiar belongings had given her a sense of calm. In some way, it seemed like the events of the last day had been the product of her imagination, that she was still feeling the effects of a lingering nightmare.

Her property looked the same as it always did—rows of grass and corn in the backyard, a wire fence lining the roadside in the front. Past the driveway she could see the red barn that she’d recently repainted. There were no signs that anything unusual had occurred in the area, and no signs of the infected.

Still, she knew that things could change at any moment. And because of that she needed to stay mentally prepared.

Meredith reached up and massaged her temples, fighting off a migraine headache. She was suddenly hit with a wave of exhaustion. She hadn’t slept at all the night before, and it was catching up to her. As if sensing her mood, Ernie jumped onto her lap and started lapping at her face with his tongue. She smiled and gently pushed him down, then scratched him behind the ears.

It’d been good to reunite with him again. She felt guilty for even leaving him in the first place.

“I’m sorry I left you for so long, boy,” she told him. “It won’t happen again.”

John paced the house, still favoring his injured leg. Since arriving home, she’d changed the bandage and cleaned it, but she could tell he was still in pain. She watched as he padded from one room to another, doing his best to put on a brave front. In spite of being in the house, she could tell he was still unsettled.

“You don’t have any other guns in the house, do you, Meredith?”

“No,” she replied. Having lost both of their rifles during their journey, they were virtually defenseless.

“Maybe one of the neighbors has one.”

“I don’t think we should go back out there, John,” she said. “We should probably just hang tight.”

John glanced at the floor of the living room, where he’d collected a pile of makeshift weapons. In the stack were several garden tools, some knives, and some two-by-fours.

“If we get surrounded again—like I did at the furniture shop—we’re going to be in trouble,” he said.