Resurrection (Book 2): Into the Wasteland

by Michael J. Totten

  “The mayor threw all kinds of people into that prison, including the cops. Starting with the cops. Anyone he thought might cause trouble for him.”

  Annie blinked a couple of times. “So what were you planning to do after you found me?”

  “Honestly,” he said, “I didn’t think I would find you.”

  “Well,” she said. “Let’s go get them.”

  Hughes just looked at her.

  “You can’t be serious,” Annie said.

  “They’ll kill each other,” Hughes said.

  “My God, Hughes, they also might not.”

  Hughes wanted to leave, right now, in the middle of the night, and go straight to Atlanta. They went round and round, Annie insisting they regroup with the others and Hughes refusing to budge. She couldn’t believe he wanted to abandon their friends, but he said he couldn’t trust either one of them. Annie maintained that Parker and Kyle were decent people at heart and that redemption was possible—she’d watched Doc Nash redeem himself, after all, and Nash had a hell of a lot to redeem—but Hughes stood firm. Kyle and Parker, he said, were time bombs, tick tick ticking away.

  She wore him down in the end. “You are not the man I thought you were.”

  He looked at her as if she’d just spit on him.

  “Neither of us would be alive if it weren’t for those two,” she said. “And I can’t fight anymore. They took so much of my blood at the hospital that I can barely stand up. I can’t run and I can’t swing a weapon. If you and I leave by ourselves, for the next month you’d might as well be traveling with a three-year old.”

  Hughes said nothing.

  “You may be right,” she said, “they could end up killing each other, but you can’t possibly know that. Either way, they aren’t going to kill you and they sure as hell won’t kill me. But if you and I end up deep in Nebraska and run into trouble without any backup, you’ll know I was right and won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.”

  Hughes still didn’t say anything, but she could tell by the look on his face that he was about to give in.

  “So first let’s get Kyle,” she said, “and then we’ll get Parker. Parker might feel a little bit better about things if Kyle helps rescue him. We could even send Kyle in first. God knows in my condition that I won’t be able to help.”

  Hughes looked at her for a long time and finally relented. She wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw some relief on his face, like she’d talked him into something that, on some level, he wanted anyway. He just needed somebody else to convince him.

  “Then let’s go,” he said, “and forget this place ever existed.”

  Annie could never forget that Lander existed. She would never forget what they did to her here. Imprisoned here within moments of her arrival. Milked her like an animal for her blood, which, at least according to Nash, cured the mayor’s kid but left him catatonic and better off dead. Once the virus got in the water supply, the only functioning town in a thousand miles collapsed like everywhere else. Locking her up and draining her to near-death accomplished a grand total of nothing.

  If anything remained of Georgia’s largest city, it would be Lander, Wyoming, all over again, only with skyscrapers and without a way out.

  Lander’s infected coalesced into an enormous horde. It had effectively transformed itself into a single organism, stronger and more lethal than the sum of its parts. Even by himself, Hughes could handle a dozen of them with the Persuader, but no one could survive an encounter with hundred unless they hunkered down in a battle tank and called in some air strikes.

  So Hughes drove the Suburban slowly and quietly back to the motel with the headlights off and only the running lights on. Driving fast and loud and bright would have been as foolish as jumping into a bear pit with a T-bone strapped to his chest.

  The Suburban had half a tank of gas, but Hughes’ himself was running on fumes. He needed sleep, badly, and he half wished he’d suggested to Annie that they spend what was left of the night back at the house she’d been hiding in. Sure, he could crash at the motel for a couple of hours, but he’d have to deal with Kyle first and wasn’t sure he had enough energy.

  He couldn’t see more than a few dozen feet in front of him without headlights, so he rolled along, quiet and slow, at just over five miles an hour. His eyelids felt heavy as he scanned for threats back and forth. Annie slumped in the passenger seat with her right thumb and middle finger in her eyes.

  “Hey,” Hughes said.

  She sat up and took her hand away from her face.

  “Do me a favor,” he said. “Keep watch on the right. I’ll take the left and the front.”

  “Okay,” she said. “Sorry, I’m just so tired.”

  “Me too.”

  Hughes was used to driving in the city without any street lights or porch lights guiding him, but moving through the neighborhood with nothing but the running lights on felt like crawling along the bottom of an ocean abyss. He could barely even tell where he was, like he was driving past the same houses, the same parked cars, the same wintry trees and the same dead bodies over and over again. Main Street was just up ahead, though, and a left should get them to the motel.

  “We’re doing the right thing,” Annie said.

  “We’ll see,” Hughes said, though he knew she was right. He couldn’t take Annie to Atlanta by himself. The road was too long and too dangerous. Something would happen, something bad, something he couldn’t yet imagine or even see coming until it was upon them, and he and Annie wouldn’t survive if they faced it alone. He needed an army, or at minimum a platoon. With Parker and Kyle, at least they’d have half a squad.

  Hughes took a left at Main, and he took it slow. The street seemed to be clear—he didn’t see or hear anything—but in such absolute darkness, the horde would see the Suburban’s running lights long before he’d see them.

  “Do you know where we are?” Annie said.

  “Motel’s just a couple blocks ahead on the left.”

  “I’ve never even seen it.”

  “It ain’t the Hilton.”

  “Do you think Kyle’s still there?”

  “We’ll find out in a minute.”

  He almost missed it, but he caught the edge of Max’s office at the last second, realized where he was, and turned into the lot. He didn’t park right away, though. Instead he drove to the end of the lot, made a K-turn, and stopped in front of Kyle’s room with the truck facing the street for a quick exit. He thought he saw movement in his peripheral vision as he turned off the engine. Somebody taking a peek through the curtains. Kyle was home.

  But wait. That movement didn’t come from Kyle’s room. It came from their neighbor’s room. Andy’s.

  “Hang tight,” he said and stepped out of the vehicle with the shotgun. He left the running lights on so he could see.

  The door to Andy’s room opened and Kyle appeared.

  “You came back,” Kyle said. “And—my God, is that Annie?”

  They were safe for the moment, so Hughes stood back as Annie slowly and with apparent pain stepped out of the Suburban and embraced Kyle.

  Then another person appeared in the doorway.

  Parker.

  “Annie!” Parker said.

  Hughes blinked a couple of times. “Parker,” he said. He couldn’t believe it. He thought he was going to have to storm the prison in the morning, but shit, they could all leave Lander tonight.

  Hughes and Kyle just looked at each other as Annie hugged Parker.

  “You get him out?” Hughes said.

  Kyle nodded.

  “He did,” Parker said. “He freed everyone by himself.”

  Hughes felt his face flush. Annie was so right. Kyle had already proven himself. Hughes just hadn’t known it yet.

  “Are you two okay?” Hughes trusted he didn’t need to explain what he meant by that question.

  “We’re good,” Parker said.

  “What about you?” Hughes said to Parker. The poor bastard was on th
e verge of a nervous breakdown last time Hughes saw him.

  “I’m better now,” Parker said. “A lot better. I think I’m okay.”

  He actually sounded okay. Hughes couldn’t for the life of him imagine how a stint in Steele’s prison improved Parker’s emotional state, but they’d have plenty of time to talk about it once they got out of Lander.

  Andy appeared in the doorway. “Hey, everybody.”

  “Andy,” Hughes said.

  “We haven’t met,” Annie said and reached out her hand. “I’m Annie.”

  Annie and Andy shook hands.

  Hughes felt fifty pounds lighter. An hour earlier he was alone and despondent, ready to give up, head down to Texas to die, yet now here he was, back at the motel with the keys to the truck in his hand and his friends reunited. He needed to sleep, and he needed to do it right now, but they could be 50 miles out of town in less than an hour.

  “We have to go,” Hughes said. The horde could show up any minute. “Right now.”

  “I’ll get my things,” Kyle said.

  “Two minutes,” Hughes said.

  “What about me?” Andy said.

  Hughes wasn’t expecting that. They had room in the truck, but he didn’t know Andy. Not really.

  “Come with us,” Annie said.

  “I’m not sure that’s a fantastic idea,” Kyle said.

  “Excuse me?” Andy said.

  “Don’t play dumb with me, asshole.”

  Hughes jerked his head back.

  “Hey, now,” Parker said.

  Kyle pursed his lips and looked at the ground. “Yesterday,” he said and looked up, “I was almost killed, right where we’re standing, but I’m alive today no thanks to this guy. And Parker is free, again no thanks to this guy.”

  “I gave you my van,” Andy said.

  “And that’s all you did,” Kyle said.

  Hughes narrowed his eyes at Andy.

  “Kyle,” Annie said.

  “I asked him to help me free Parker and he refused,” Kyle said.

  Andy said nothing.

  “He hid here in his room,” Kyle said.

  “Andy?” Hughes said.

  Andy still didn’t say anything.

  “He’s not coming with us,” Kyle said.

  Hughes was way too tired for this.

  “Hughes?” Annie said.

  “I’m making an executive decision,” Kyle said. All eyes turned to him now.

  “Fuck you people,” Andy said.

  “Hang on,” Hughes said.

  “No, go,” Andy said. “Just go. I have my van. I’ll head to California.”

  “We can’t just leave him,” Annie said.

  “We can,” Kyle said. “And we will.”

  Annie squinted at Kyle. Hughes knew what she was thinking. She’d just convinced him not to abandon Kyle and Parker, that there was safety in numbers, that redemption was possible. Andy’s sin, if Kyle was to be believed, wasn’t malice but cowardice.

  Whether Andy traveled with them or not, they needed to leave and they needed to do it right now.

  “Best of luck to you all,” Andy said and turned to go back to his room.

  “Wait,” Hughes said, and Andy stopped without turning around. “I don’t know you. I know Kyle, and I trust him.” Kyle looked at Hughes and nodded with a little uncertainty on his face. “I also know Annie, and I trust her. You, I don’t know, but we’ll leave it up to you anyway.”

  Andy turned around now.

  Hughes had to make this quick. “You can leave with us,” he said, “on one condition. Either Kyle is right or Annie is right, and if we take you we’ll all know the truth soon enough. You get one chance. Let us down, and we leave you where you stand. If we’re in the truck when it happens, we pull off to the side of the road and shove you onto the pavement. I don’t care if it’s in the middle of a blizzard or the middle of a goddamn war zone. You will be gone and you won’t have your van. You’ll be walking your happy ass to California instead of driving there with the heat on. So tell us. What’s it going to be? Can you pull your weight or is Kyle right about you?”

  Andy didn’t say anything. He just stared at a blank space in the darkness over Hughes’ shoulder. And that answered the question. Andy wouldn’t step up and he knew it.

  “Kyle,” Hughes said. “Parker. Get your stuff. We leave in two minutes.”

  Andy wouldn’t look at Hughes or anyone else. “Best of luck to you all,” he said and went back into his room.

  “Wow,” Annie said.

  “Get in the truck,” Hughes said. He was done talking. Done fucking around. Done with Lander, Wyoming, and just about done with this whole fucking world. He could not give less of a shit about Andy. He didn’t give a shit about Kyle or Parker or even himself. If Annie couldn’t get to Atlanta, a giant asteroid might as well slam into the planet and finish everyone and everything off.

  Kyle and Parker couldn’t load all their stuff into truck in two minutes, but they did it in five. They climbed into the back seat with Kyle behind Hughes and Parker behind Annie up front in the passenger seat. And just like that, everybody was ready to go.

  Ten minutes, Hughes thought. The edge of town was less than a mile away, so in just ten minutes, they could clear the city limits. He turned the ignition key and the Suburban started up with a growl.

  “We’re taking it slow,” he said and pulled out of the lot and onto the street, again with only the running lights on.

  They rolled through Lander in the dark at a slug’s pace, past the insurance office, past the bank and past the beer and billiards place with a cowboy boot on its sign. Hughes saw nothing moving in any direction, just the faintest light of early dawn in the sky to the east. Perhaps the horde was down for the night. The infected had to sleep just as much as everyone else did.

  He considered turning on the high beams and flooring it. The horde could be up ahead, but he’d see it coming far in advance and could just go around it. Driving with the headlights on earlier would have been stupid since he kept having to stop and get out of the truck, but this time he wasn’t going to stop until the infected sonsofbitches were at least 30 miles in the rearview.

  “Thinking about hitting the lights and blowing this town at 100 miles an hour,” he said. “Objections?”

  “Do it,” Kyle said.

  “Fine by me,” Annie said.

  They continued rolling along past a once-fancy coffeeshop with the windows shot out.

  “Parker?” Hughes said.

  “I don’t see why not,” Parker said. “We’re not stopping, right?”

  “We’re not stopping,” Hughes said.

  He couldn’t see more than fifty feet in front of him, but the running lights were easily visible from a mile away. The Suburban was bang in the center of town in the middle of Main Street, and they’d already passed cross street after cross street.

  He realized he wasn’t tired anymore. His pulse raced and his hands shook on the wheel. There was nothing quite like a creeping feeling of dread to wake somebody’s ass up. Earlier, he had no choice but to drive dark and quiet and slow, but now he was doing exactly the wrong thing out of habit. He squinted ahead into the darkness and saw nothing but asphalt, some broken glass, and the body of one of Steele’s men with its left arm chewed down to the bone.

  “Turn the lights on,” Kyle said. “Do it now.”

  If the infected saw them and were headed their way, would they be in front or behind? To the left or to the right? The horde could be anywhere, but what did the odds tell him? Should he keep the truck in first gear or shift into reverse?

  “Turn the lights on,” Kyle said.

  Hughes licked his lips and swallowed. Only inky darkness lay beyond a tiny bubble of light with nothing in the rearview and nothing to either side. He took a deep breath and told himself they could be out of town in less than a minute.

  “Just do it,” Kyle said.

  Hughes flicked on the high beams and saw it. The horde. Hundreds
of infected a block and a half dead ahead. Men, women, and even a handful of children, ragged, contorted and bloody. They shambled toward the Suburban almost in unison, some squinting their eyes at the light, some with their heads cocked to the side.

  They didn’t seem to be in any kind of a hurry, couldn’t see anything but the running lights beneath the grill, couldn’t see through the windshield and into the vehicle at the faces of four breathing humans inside. They were simply drawn to the lights.

  Annie, Kyle and Parker unlatched their seatbelts and crouched low in their seats. Hughes stayed strapped in and upright.

  He licked his lips and rolled his fingertips across the top of the steering wheel. He could step on the gas and drive through them, break their bodies on the grill and mash them under the wheels. Many would go down and never get up again. It would be immensely satisfying and might even save a few lives, but Hughes might also get the four of them killed if the Suburban got stuck in the gore, and besides, Lander was already dead. Hughes doubted there’d be anyone left alive in a week. There certainly wouldn’t be anyone left alive in a month.

  So he shifted into reverse and backed away slowly, no faster than a couple of miles an hour.

  “What’s behind us?” Kyle said.

  Hughes checked the rearview. “Nothing,” he said.

  “So…” Annie said. “Why aren’t we moving?”

  “We are,” Hughes said.

  The horde kept pace and actually drew a bit closer.

  “Can we go a little bit faster?” Parker said.

  Hughes said nothing. The awesome scene before him was as captivating as a tornado, a volcanic eruption, or an alien invasion, and Hughes could not look away. An army of haggard and beyond-psychopathic ex-humans, lurching and effectively brain-dead, collectively powerful enough to bring about an extinction event, yet there they were, pointlessly drawn to a couple of lights in the street. What struck Hughes more than anything else was their curiosity. Body language and facial expressions are universal across cultures and time. These people, these infected, had more going on in whatever was left of their brains than mere rage. They still had at least a narrow range of emotions and thoughts. The fact that they had the capacity for curiosity didn’t mean much—it was certainly no reason to hope—but it was something. Hughes could watch these things for hours if they weren’t so dangerous. He bet the Centers for Disease Control, if it still existed, had at least one of these things behind glass.