LZR-1143 (Book 4): Desolation (7 page)

“Which way are we going?” she asked, walking to the edge of the house and looking out over the slowly receding water that was reflecting the moonlight in a murky pattern. The far-off, dull orange glow gave the eerie scene an added element of surrealism.

“We have to go down to the valley to move north,” I said, remembering the map. “There used to be a small river a mile north of us, running east-west, but if the land drops down to sea level there, it will all be under water now. I remember coming uphill from the south along the highway that we can see from here, so if the land continues to slope up or stays even, we might still have dry land further north. I say we make our way north, and then try to move east until we find a way across the river. We’re in the foothills of the mountains now, so if we stay to the east, we should be able to stay near higher, dry land.”

“Do we have the gas for that?” she asked quietly, still staring at the water. The orange glow was a little stronger, and I felt the thundering explosions of the mountain in the distance before I heard them.
 

“I don’t think so,” my voice faded off as I watched a large rock shoot from the top of what remained of Mount Rainier—previously an integral part of the Seattle skyline, and now a decapitated remnant of a different world.

“But we just have to keep moving. We can scrounge on the way.”

“And what do you think about them? Do you think this will help or hurt?”
 

“You mean do I think this just knocked three hundred million zombies on their collective rotten asses? No, I think it just deprived us of what remained of our precious civilization. We’re really in a new world, now. A world that we can’t hope to rebuild on the ashes of past success. We’re really on our own now.”
 

“How poetic.”

“Shut up.”

***

As the remains of the mountain to the south lit the sky with an orange display of nature’s anger, we prepared to leave.
 

We took our time loading the truck and checking our gear. The night was young, and we wanted to give the water that was going to recede time to do so. And truth be told, none of us truly felt safe as we prepared to head out into a world that had somehow gotten crueler than it was when it was
only
full of the undead.
 

Several hours later, Ky had mostly shaken herself out of the shock, and was asking questions about geology that we weren’t prepared to answer.

Romeo, in the meantime, filled his time by licking parts of his anatomy best left unsaid.

“I don’t know if it will happen again.”

“No, I don’t know what magnitude it was. It was big. Probably an 8 or 9.”

“How should I know if other mountains are erupting?”

“Do I think the San Francisco Bay Bridge is still standing? That’s an absurdly random question.” We were waiting for Kate to use the toilet for what could be the last time in a long while. There were definitely advantages to being a man.

“I’ve never seen it and was kinda hoping …” She let it trail off, as if feeling silly for harboring the slim hope. Sometimes I lost track of her age, and it really snuck up on me. Now I felt bad.
 

“I don’t know, but it’s a suspension bridge, so the supports aren’t as fragile and susceptible to earthquakes, so … maybe.” I was totally talking out of my ass. I knew as much about bridges as I did about women.

Kate emerged from the house and pulled the door behind her, trying to close it.
 

“Uh, no need,” I threw out the window, absently brushing a shard of glass from the empty frame and leaning over the steering wheel.
 

“Right, sorry.” She shook her head and climbed into the passenger’s seat. Behind her, Romeo stole a shot at her exposed ear and she cursed and laughed. “Old habits and all that. Ready.”

The truck moved awkwardly but capably. The suspension had been damaged, and the alignment was about six inches off—it felt like I was driving crookedly and I had to keep the wheel cocked slightly to the side—but the engine continued to purr. We passed the cabin longingly, knowing that its destruction was a mark of a more difficult road ahead.
 

The narrow pathway to the cabin was riddled with cracks and holes, but since it had never been asphalt, the dirt had shifted in such a way that there were no huge crevasses to avoid. For the most part, the gravel and rock had filled some of the smaller holes, and the larger gaps were still narrow enough for the truck’s oversized tires to bridge. Trees felled to either side made for a harrowing weave between large branches, but the thick forest seemed to have absorbed most of the fallen brush. One forlorn tree hung suspended by two of its comrades, branches entwined at the higher levels, keeping the uprooted stricken sentinel from toppling into the small road.

When we reached the two lane highway, I stopped at the crossroads, allowing the truck to idle momentarily as we took in the scene before us.
 

The flood waters had receded slightly here, but the road was destroyed, with slabs of asphalt and concrete jaggedly stretching toward the sky, muddy pits between long gaps of former roadway. Fifty feet from the intersection, a jagged ravine bisected the highway; on the other side of the narrow crack, the highway had shifted nearly twenty feet, so that the sides no longer aligned.
 

The earth was definitely moving toward the sea. The land was sinking beneath the bay, and the Pacific ocean beyond.
 

My God, that earthquake had been powerful.
 

Debris covered the muddy ground on both sides of the road, and odd items hung from the surviving trees. Dead fish, rocks, and seaborne debris were visible in equal parts as we began to gingerly make our way along the shattered roadway toward the north. The moonlight was an able compliment to our halogen lights, which had both miraculously survived the onslaught of rock and dirt at the cabin.

We picked our way carefully along the road, abandoning the actual pavement for the more consistent gravel shoulder and grassy easement alongside, dodging the odd car, fence, or marine debris as we moved slowly but consistently north.
 

The countryside was torn, but still recognizable. Despite the small berms of earth where the land had risen into new hills and valleys, the eastern side of the road had fared much better. While few houses were left standing, the darkness shrouded trees and even a few roadsigns that had survived. The deep water, and the press of billions of gallons of seawater, had subsided on the eastern side of the interstate before it reached this far, so the flood waters had mostly moved back to the western side of the highway.
 

Reaching a small rise in the roadway’s path overlooking the small valley below, we eventually came across the area that had been a river only hours ago.

I stopped the truck in a narrow stretch of roadway between two walls of trees, their shadows pushing out into the narrow passage. The soft rustle of woodland creatures was audible in the still night air, and a stiff breeze kicked up from the north, bringing with it the smell of colder days ahead.
 

Ahead, seawater had flooded the shallow valley, pushing boats and trees along the banks. In a testament to the strength of steel and iron, the bridge across what used to be the river still stood. But as a testament to the strength of nature, it was submerged above the roadway in seawater.
 

We weren’t going north across that bridge.

“I guess we need to find another way,” said Ky, leaning forward from the back seat and locking her eyes on the scene ahead. Kate was already staring at the map as I glared absently at the ruined escape route.
 

“I suppose so. It’s okay, we figured this would be a long shot. It’s too close to the sea. We need to move further to the …”
 

A hand had my shoulder and I stopped talking, shocked for once by the quiet of the attack. A wizened head, eyes sunken and mouth agape, lunged through the open window at my side and thrust forward for my flesh. The moment’s hesitation passed quickly, and I reacted from instinct.
 

Curling my arm up as if lifting a drink to my lips, I caught the neck of the creature and wrapped my left hand around its skull, fingers slipping into the socket where the eye was planted deeply in the flesh. I pulled forward rapidly, turning my head from the stench of the thing even as I felt the characteristic and familiar pop. The energy left the face, and the body fell heavily against the door of the vehicle as the skull slipped from my fingers.
 

Before I could wipe my hand, Ky screamed and Romeo began to bark ferociously.
 

“Reverse would be good,” said Kate softly, struggling to bring her rifle to bear in the small space.

The headlights had suddenly illuminated more than fifty of the creatures, all sodden and shambling forward into the circle of light cast by the bright lamps of the large truck. I cursed, and threw the vehicle into reverse, hearing the tires squeal briefly before catching against the small strip of unmolested concrete.
 

“Where did
they
come from?” yelled Ky as the truck bounced hard against the uneven ground, my hands flying over the wheel to pull the vehicle around.

They stumbled forward, fading in and out of the bright lights as they moved toward us. I hit the gas and jerked the wheel to the left, pulling us around and accelerating away from the small herd. More than a hundred more had appeared, moving uphill and away from the watery destruction below, most of them flooding out of the trees that had been to either side of us.

No one answered Ky as I dodged debris and tree limbs backtracking to the roadway behind us.
 

“I saw a road cutting east back past the small shed with the realtor’s face on it,” Ky mentioned, staring out the side windows, carefully scanning for more creatures.

“Got it,” said Kate, aiming a flashlight at her bedraggled map. “It’s called Old Creek Road, and it heads due east for about five miles before we have a shot at turning north again.”
 

I slowed to watch for any signs that had survived and was considering turning around to search for a missed turn when Kate pointed.
 

“There,” she said, pulling my eyes to a crooked sign that could barely be read, its white lettering on green background faded and sun-worn. I pulled the truck into the gentle curve and breathed a small sigh of relief that I hoped was not audible to Ky—or Kate for that matter—as we began to slowly move uphill, and away from the lower land behind us. The tires crunched as we moved from broken pavement and shattered asphalt to a graded road, barely wide enough for two vehicles.
 

The road wound gently through several small hills, trees mostly set back from the road by twenty feet or so, likely a product of the need to move agricultural material through the area. After three miles, I slowed the truck as we came across the first downed tree across the path. We had been able to skirt several others that had come down over the highway by angling around, but this one was squarely in the way, its full foliage spread over the ground like a cloak.
 

“Can we move it?” Kate asked doubtfully.
 

“We can try to push it from one side—probably there,” I pointed at the upended root structure that had pulled large clods of soil up into the air. “We won’t have to fight against the limbs as much, and we only need about seven feet on the shoulder. It looks pretty clear.”

I turned off the engine and dimmed the lights—our night vision was very good, but the extra help, especially after the surprise on the hill near the river, was appreciated.
 

Ky jumped out to help, but Kate lifted a single finger, pointing to the truck. Romeo flashed past her and into the woods, tail up and nose to the ground.

“What? I can help!”
 

“Stay in the truck. We’ll take care of it. You watch our backs.” Kate shot me a glance and I winked at her, knowing the subterfuge for what it was.

Ky glared for a moment, and turned on her heel, climbing back into the large crew cab and standing on the doorframe, head swiveling to watch the different approaches.
 

I found a handhold near the roots as Kate joined me, her M-4 slung across her back.
 

“Come here often?” I joked, as I set my legs.
 

“I come frequently, but not here,” she joked back with a wry smile.
 

It took me a minute to realize she had made a dirty joke.
 

I wasn’t too bright, after all.

The tree was only a couple feet thick and although it was heavy, it was doable to folks with our special advantages. The wood protested against the graded road, and rocks shot up from underneath the passing branches. After a full minute of ponderously manhandling it, we were able to guarantee a passage to the right of the tree and turned back to the truck.

“Romeo, let’s go!” I shouted. “Pinch it off. If you’re not done now, you can try later.”
 

The only answer was a single bark, sounding as if it was coming from well within the trees on the right side of the parked vehicle.

“What the hell, man?” I yelled out, wary of the noise we were making and glancing back at Kate. She shrugged.

“He doesn’t sound like he’s in trouble,” she said quietly, eyes scanning the tree line and moving her rifle to ready position.
 

Another single bark echoed back to us, and I could interpret this one:
Come see what I found! It’s awesome! Wag! Wag! Seriously! Come! Now! Stupid humans.

“All right, I’ll check it out. Use the horn if I need to come back. No! You stay here!” Ky was jumping out of the cab again, crossbow up and ready.
 

“He’s my dog as much as yours!” she yelled.

“We’re not doing this teenager bullshit today, okay? We need to keep moving, and I don’t want to have to look out for you—“