The Road Trip At The End Box Set [Books 1-3]

by Wood, J N

  I spun around to look at the house behind us, a single story building, all painted white. ‘Shall we get on the other side of this house? It might give us a bit more protection.’

  We gathered up our stuff and headed for the edge of the house.

  ‘We can leave their bags on the other side of the house,’ Roy suggested.

  I hadn’t noticed until we got closer to the house, but that same smell of decay was here, similar to the A Coruna stench. I got to the end of the house and turned the corner.

  The field on the other side of the house was very different to the olive grove. Instead of trees, it was filled with bodies. There must have been hundreds of thousands, rapidly decomposing in the sun. There were birds everywhere, picking at the bodies and fighting with one another.

  That explains the smell.

  None of the bodies stirred, just the odd item of clothing fluttered in the light breeze. Two rats rolled out from between two bodies, spotted us, and then scurried away behind another body.

  ‘What the fuck happened here?’ Roy asked.

  ‘A zombie swarm died maybe.’

  ‘All at the same time?’ he asked.

  ‘Don’t know.’

  The bike’s engines starting revving.

  ‘Into the zombie graveyard?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes,’ Roy agreed. ‘Try not to disturb the birds.’

  We ran into the field, jumping over the bodies and avoiding the larger groups of birds. A couple of birds flew away when I got too close. Sometimes I didn’t have any choice but to step on the bodies, my boots going all the way through to touch the ground beneath. I shuddered as I ran, disgusted by the thought of what I was stepping in.

  ‘They’re driving through the trees,’ Roy said. ‘They’re coming this way.’

  I didn’t turn around, instead looking for an escape plan. The field was huge, with no cover for a mile or so.

  ‘Lie down,’ I called out, falling to my knees behind the closest bodies. ‘Get face down and put the gun beneath you.’

  Roy instantly fell to the ground, lying down next to a pile of three or four bodies. I took off my backpack and flattened myself as much as I could, my right arm pressed against a dead body. The smell was beyond disgusting.

  Chapter 23: Not Empty

  It’s hard to tell with my face pressed into the dry crumbling mud, surrounded by dead bodies, but it sounded like the bikers stopped their bikes at the wall we climbed over. One by one, I heard the motorbikes engines silenced.

  Just give up and go back to the road, there’s nothing to see here.

  Their voices travelled over to us. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they sounded happy, like they were laughing and chatting about everyday stuff.

  Fuck off you Mad Max wannabe fuckers.

  Their jovial voices seemed to be getting closer to us.

  Something was crawling over my back.

  Fucking rats. I’m not dead yet so fuck off.

  One of the bikers was taking a piss. I could hear it splashing on to the dry ground. It at least sounded like they were still over by the house. The guy finished pissing and zipped his fly up.

  Then there was just silence, only broken by the cawing of crows.

  Minutes passed with my face in the dirt. I didn’t dare move, terrified they were still there.

  Enough shit has happened to us today already. Just give us one break please.

  ‘Chris,’ Roy whispered. ‘Have they gone?’

  ‘I haven’t heard the bikes start up,’ I whispered back.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I haven’t heard the bikes. Have you?’

  ‘What?’ Roy asked again.

  Fuck’s sake.

  I slowly lifted my head, a millimetre at a time, peering over the body next to me.

  Fuck knows where Roy is. He’s hidden himself really well.

  The bike engines roared to life, making me drop my face back into the dirt. Again I slowly lifted myself up until I could see. Four clouds of red dust filled a single row of the olive grove, merging into one giant cloud. The house blocked the bikes from view, but the dust clouds indicated they were definitely leaving.

  I laid my head back down and waited.

  I’ll stay here until I can’t hear them at all, not even the low humming that first alerted us to their presence.

  Then I remembered I was lying in field of dead bodies and ravenous rats. I sprung up to my knees, brushing the dust from my face and coat. The dirt on my face had mixed with the blood and sweat, turning into a crusty hard substance. I pulled the water bottle from Benoit’s bag and poured half of it over me.

  ‘That must feel better,’ Roy said.

  I opened my eyes to find him stood over me.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked, still trying to scrub my face with my hand.

  ‘Yeah I’m fine,’ he replied, offering me his hand.

  I took it and let him pull me to my feet.

  ‘I think this has been the worst day of my life,’ he sighed, gazing at the bodies around us. ‘Worse than the day Sarah died.’

  ‘Yep, it’s been shit,’ I said, patting my jeans with my hands. The air around me was filled with red dust.

  ‘Shall we get back to the car?’ he asked.

  ‘I think we should definitely leave this field. What about the four flat tyres.’

  He shrugged. ‘Just drive on the wheel rims until we find another car. It’ll be quicker than walking. The bikes went back the way they came from.’

  I lifted the AR-15 up and slung it over my shoulder. ‘Okay, fair enough.’

  ‘I think we can leave their bags here,’ he suggested. ‘It’s kind of a graveyard so it’s probably suitable. Take Ben’s food and water though. I’ve taken Aurelie’s.’

  We placed the two bags of clothes together on the ground, slightly away from any of the dead. We stood and looked down at the strange memorial for a few seconds, and then walked back across the body strewn field.

  ‘Are you sure about this?’ I asked once we were sat in the car, Roy in the driver’s seat.

  ‘I don’t want to walk home,’ he replied.

  We slowly accelerated, the flapping of the baggy rubber tyres getting louder and louder.

  ‘Right,’ Roy announced. ‘Ten miles an hour. That will do us. I don’t feel like I’ve got much control.’

  ‘When I was walking over the mountains near California, or was it in California?’

  ‘Was it Yosemite?’ Roy asked.

  ‘No, further north near Carson City.’

  ‘I don’t know it.’

  ‘Well wherever I was, I found a jeep type thing and drove that off the mountain.’

  ‘Was it an actual Jeep?’

  I tried to think back. ‘Yes it was actually, a Jeep Wrangler I think.’

  ‘I like Jeeps,’ he said.

  A loud metallic screeching drowned out the flapping at the front of the car.

  ‘We’ve lost one tyre,’ Roy stated.

  ‘So I drove the Jeep down through the snow. The maximum speed I could get up to was about ten miles per hour so I basically just skidded all the way down.’

  ‘Not too dissimilar to this then. There isn’t much response when I turn the wheel.’ He turned slightly and we carried on in a straight line.

  ‘Maybe slow down before the next bend,’ I said.

  ‘Watch this,’ he said, turning the wheel a quarter to the right. ‘It doesn’t do anything.’

  We didn’t change direction but the metallic screeching certainly got louder.

  With a sudden jolt, the back end of the car skidded and bounced around to the left, making me shout, ‘Whoa!’

  ‘What the fuck?’ Roy screamed, trying to regain control.

  The back end suddenly reversed its direction and skidded around so we were straight again, but then kept on going. We were travelling in the right direction, but sliding sideways. Roy slammed on the brakes, making us spin, but eventually bringing us to a stop. The car jostled from
side to side, with us facing the opposite direction.

  ‘Okay,’ I said. ‘Let’s not try that again.’

  ‘No. It’s a good job we were going slowly.’

  We drove around in a very wide circle, painfully slowly, in order to get back in the right direction.

  ‘No sudden turns please Roy, and stop at the next town.’

  ‘I think we might be close to France,’ Roy said.

  ‘Hopefully it’s doing better than Spain.’

  ‘What about the border?’ he asked.

  ‘They don’t have a border do they? It’s the EU. Not a physical border anyway.’

  ‘America and Canada didn’t have a big wall until recently.’

  ‘Very true,’ I said. ‘Suppose we’ll find out soon. Car replacement first though please.’

  Twenty minutes later, Roy pointed at a signpost. ‘Errenteria, shall we try there?’

  ‘Yeah that’ll do. If it’s one of those fortresses Aurelie was talking about, avoid it.’

  The grating sound of metal grinding on the tarmac was enough to send anyone crazy. I’d be happy to walk to England if it meant never hearing the noise again.

  We pulled off the dual carriageway very slowly, and going even slower, took a winding little road to the edge of town. It would have been quicker to get out and walk. We stopped on a roundabout and surveyed the area.

  ‘If there’s anyone still living here, they must have heard us coming,’ I said. The new silence was quite disconcerting.

  Roy leaned forward, trying to get a better look out of the windscreen. ‘They probably heard us in England.’

  A heaped pile of bodies had been dumped against a wall not far from us.

  ‘Doesn’t look like a fortress,’ Roy said, obviously ignoring the dead people.

  ‘Nope. Shall we get our stuff and go in? No point in leaving anything here.’

  ‘Yep,’ Roy replied, opening his door and climbing out.

  It only took us thirty seconds to find a block of flats, the modern concrete type, not like the much nicer and older ones we found in A Coruna. It was just on the other side of the roundabout. The car park in front contained at least twenty cars.

  ‘Why didn’t everyone drive away from here?’ I asked. ‘There’s a lot of cars.’

  ‘They’re probably dead,’ Roy said, and walked to one of the ground floor flats.

  He banged his rifle against the door, the thuds echoing around the car park. He waited a few seconds before trying the handle. Locked. He brought the butt of the rifle down onto the handle, snapping it clean off. It clattered onto the concrete doorstep.

  ‘It’s still gonna be locked Roy,’ I told him. ‘All you’ve done is break the handle.’

  He put his shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge.

  ‘Both of us at the same time,’ I suggested.

  We both took three steps back from the door, and then ran at it. The door swung open on impact, splintered wood going everywhere. We found ourselves lying side by side on the carpeted floor inside.

  The smell was so incredible it took my breath away. I clambered up onto my hands and knees and crawled back outside, desperate to get away from the putrid stench.

  I was lying on my back in the car park, trying to breathe in some fresh air, when Roy crawled up alongside me and placed something on my chest.

  ‘Fucking hell,’ he said. ‘That was disgusting.’

  ‘What’s this?’ I asked, grabbing the little plastic block from my chest.

  ‘Car key. I saw it hanging up when we were trying to get out. I couldn’t get past you so I grabbed it.’

  I dangled the Peugeot key above my face. ‘Well done Royston. I didn’t really want to go back in there.’

  He patted my arm. ‘Let’s find that car.’

  I pressed the button. A horn sounded twice. The wing mirrors of a white Peugeot 2008 unfolded.

  ‘Our new car,’ Roy said, getting to his feet.

  We loaded up and then climbed in.

  Roy’s fingers were crossed on both hands. ‘Full tank please.’

  I turned the key. The fuel gauge stopped at half.

  ‘That will do,’ Roy said.

  I drove us out of the car park and headed back to the dual carriageway.

  ‘Just imagine if this was twenty or thirty years ago,’ I said. ‘Or before central locking was about. We’d have to try every single car with the key.’

  ‘Or you just match up the logo on the key with the car,’ Roy replied.

  ‘True, but my first car was a Polo. I don’t think that key had the logo on it. I don’t think. It might have done actually. But not all of them will.’

  ‘There were no more than twenty five cars there,’ Roy said. ‘It wouldn’t have taken that long. It’s getting late. What do you want to do?’

  The clock in the car read 20:49. The sun was well on its way to setting.

  ‘Let’s keep going for as long as possible,’ I said. ‘I can drive for a few hours at least. I haven’t driven at all today.’

  ‘Okay. I don’t think we should drive all night. We both need to be awake in case we’re attacked again.’

  ‘Is this definitely the right road?’ I asked.

  ‘I think so. It’s taking us in the right direction.’

  ‘What, north?’ I asked.

  ‘Kind of yeah.’

  A mere fifteen minutes later and we were approaching France. Roy was right. We hadn’t been far away at all.

  In the distance, I could just make out something that looked like a border crossing station in the darkness. None of the lights were on, normally glowing red or green. I slowed down as we neared the abandoned looking metal structure. Our side of the road had become nine lanes, and it was probably the same amount on the other side. Each lane had a separate toll station.

  ‘Doesn’t look like anybody is here,’ Roy said.

  ‘That’s a shame. I was hoping France might be okay.’

  ‘For Benoit and Aurelie’s families?’ he asked.

  I considered lying but decided to tell the truth. ‘Not really. More for our sakes. I don’t want any more Mad Max villains attacking us.’

  All of the barriers were in their raised positions so we just drove through into France.

  That was easy.

  ‘The French are more civilised than the Spanish,’ Roy said. ‘It won’t be the same here.’

  ‘Where has that little insight come from?’ I asked him.

  ‘Nowhere. I’m just trying to convince myself it will be better.’

  Again, the French roads had a few cars on them, but all burnt out or heavily damaged. So they were very much like the Spanish roads, dead. There seemed to be a definite trend in Europe.

  Another hour passed. The Peugeot’s headlights illuminated a sign for Mont-de Marsan. Benoit and Aurelie’s hometown.

  ‘We don’t go that way do we?’ I asked.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ he sighed. ‘Stay on the A63.’

  ‘It’s a shame we can’t go and tell their families what happened.’

  ‘I don’t know their second name,’ Roy said. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Nope. And what would we do anyway? Just walk around shouting for their family members to come out and speak to us?’

  ‘I can’t believe I don’t know their surname,’ he muttered.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. We didn’t need to know it. I never told any of them my full name.’

  ‘I suppose not,’ he agreed. ‘We could have used the Yellow Pages or whatever the French version is to find them. If we knew their name.’

  ‘Do the Yellow Pages still exist? Do we still have phone directories?’

  ‘Of course we do,’ Roy answered.

  ‘Not seen one for years.’

  ‘Serrano,’ he said after a few seconds of silence.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Elena’s surname. Serrano. And Javier’s I suppose.’

  A set of headlights appeared behind us.

  ‘Lights,’ I yell
ed.

  ‘Where?’ Roy asked, spinning around in his seat.

  ‘Behind us. They’re catching us up.’

  ‘Fucking hell,’ Roy said. ‘What now?’

  ‘I’m gonna speed up,’ I told him. ‘Hopefully they won’t be able to keep up.’

  Roy picked up the soldier’s rifle from the foot well. ‘In a Peugeot 2008? Good luck.’

  ‘What are you gonna do with that? Wave it around.’

  ‘Yes that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’

  ‘Wait until we find out what they’re doing,’ I said. ‘They might just drive past.’

  The lights were flashing on and off as they got closer. I was going as fast as I dared. It was pitch black outside so all I could see was the part of the road my headlights illuminated. I was worried a car may have been left in the middle of the road. I wouldn’t see it until it was too late.

  The car was right up my arse now, just a couple of feet from our rear bumper.

  ‘What the fuck are they doing?’ Roy asked.

  ‘I think they might want us to stop.’

  ‘Don’t stop.’

  ‘I’m trying not to,’ I told him.

  The car swerved to the right. We edged away from it, but only for a few seconds. It soon caught us up so it was alongside us.

  ‘There are four of them,’ Roy shouted as he lowered his window.

  ‘Great. I think it’s gun waving time.’

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m doing,’ he replied, and pointed the gun at them.

  I glanced over. The driver was laughing at us. He looked no more than eighteen years old.

  Mother fucking little shits.

  ‘I don’t think it’s gonna work,’ I said.

  I closed my eyes when an explosion of noise thundered inside our car. The car’s wheels had a bit of a wiggle. My hands must have moved the steering wheel involuntarily.

  ‘Jesus fucking Christ,’ I yelled. ‘Are they shooting at us?’

  He didn’t answer me.

  ‘Roy, are you okay?’

  I looked past him. The driver of the other vehicle was slumped forward onto the steering wheel. His left shoulder was now entirely dark red. Hands were grabbing at him, trying to move him out of the way. The car started slowing, moving backwards. It turned suddenly to the right, its momentum causing both its right wheels to leave the road. A split second later it was rolling sideways over and over again, rising at least three or four feet off the ground. The sound of metal crunching and glass smashing reminded me of Ali and Theo’s crash.