The Last Peak (Book 2): The Darwin Collapse

by Oday, William

  "Are you okay?" Elio said as squeezed her shoulder.

  "I'm fine. You?"

  "A few bits of glass in my hair, but fine."

  "That last one hit right behind you."

  "Tell me about it. Listen, I don't like cruising down streets with houses lined up on both sides."

  Theresa nodded as she looked at the apparently not totally vacant houses on each side. "I was thinking the same thing. It feels like we’re in a shooting gallery just waiting for someone to win the prize.”

  "I've got an idea," Elio said. "There's an entrance to the four-oh-five a few blocks over. We can take it five miles south to Inglewood. My place is a half-mile east of the exit.”

  "You want to go up on the highway?"

  "Yep. Should be safer. Just a road crammed with abandoned cars. You saw the news reports. Every major highway in the Los Angeles area was packed with cars going nowhere within twenty-four hours of the outbreak."

  Theresa remembered the disturbing images on the news in those first few days. And how soon after that the technology to broadcast any news had begun to break down. For the millionth time since the outbreak began, she subconsciously reached toward her back pocket to pull out her iPhone to check something.

  The something wasn’t important. It was act that was important. The security blanket of having instant access to information at your fingertips.

  But the phone was no longer there. She'd stopped carrying it a few days ago when it became apparent power was not going to be restored. It was a photo album of the last year of her life because she was terrible at syncing it. She swiped through the pictures when Holly’s absence threatened to drown her in sadness. The pictures and videos helped in a happy-sad way.

  She dreaded the day when the battery died for good and she lost those shared moments. They were proof that Holly had lived. That life had once been normal and fun and not terrible like it was now. The images reminded her of who she used to be.

  "Hey," Elio said, "if you wanna continue testing our luck in the shooting gallery, we can do that too."

  "No, you're right. Let's try the highway. It can't be worse than this."

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  They rode up the entrance ramp alongside abandoned vehicles. People had ignored the single lane and crowded two lanes onto the ramp. An open span about two feet wide ran along the right shoulder between the concrete barrier and the uneven line of cars on the left.

  Theresa slowed a couple of times when that open space pinched in a little. They made it to the top of the ramp and she involuntarily sucked in a breath.

  Cars went on forever.

  As far as she could see.

  A frozen river of vehicles with five lanes in each direction. Who knew there were so many?

  She was surprised that for most part, they were lined up between the dashed lines as they would’ve been on any normal evening. That was the only thing that resembled normal. The rest was a shock. Here was the symbol of the modern world. The symptom of it. And now, the end of it. All around in three dimensions.

  The movie versions of the endless traffic jam didn’t do the real thing justice. Maybe the details were off or maybe it was that a flat screen simply couldn’t compare to the gut-punching reality.

  Millions of cars carrying millions of people that all tried to escape at once and so blocked everyone from getting anywhere. She’d seen the stalled traffic on the news and it had seemed no different than a movie. It was nothing more than entertainment.

  But now? Extending out in an endless swerving snake into the distance? It took her breath away.

  "Why are we stopped?" Elio asked.

  "What?"

  “Do you want to turn back?"

  "Oh, no. I just didn't realize it would be like this."

  "Yeah."

  Theresa thumbed back on the battery power and pedaled to help get the bike moving. She stuck to the right shoulder as that seemed to be the most reliable lane of open space. They cruised passed about thirty cars with both of them staring into their empty interiors.

  “I bet we could find some good stuff in these," Elio said.

  “Want to stop and check a few out?"

  "Let's do it on the way back."

  Theresa nodded as she slowed down and was forced to cut in by a black Cadillac Escalade with its bumper touching the barrier. She clicked off the electric assist and carefully pedaled between cars trying to stay as equally far away on each side as possible.

  She expected something to jump out at any second. They came up to some open space between cars on the right and she cut back over to the shoulder. The chill of the evening wind made her earlobes tingle. The setting sun was losing its warmth and she was glad she brought a jacket to slip into later. The west side was like that. No matter how hot it got during the day, the evenings always ended up cool because of the air coming in off the Pacific Ocean.

  Something seemed to move at the exit ramp up ahead, maybe a couple hundred yards away. Theresa squinted her eyes and stared to see if maybe she was just seeing things, expecting movement where there was none.

  There was.

  She eased off the electric assist and squeezed on the brakes. "Elio, do you see something up at the next exit?"

  He leaned forward around her shoulder. "Yeah, something. What is it?"

  They both stared and then spoke at the same time. “A dog."

  They watched silently as it raced towards them at top speed. Theresa noticed movement further behind it and her jaw dropped open. "There's people chasing it!"

  “Let’s go back!" Elio said.

  Theresa carefully maneuvered the bike around and was about to take off in the other direction when her thumb froze above the electric assist lever. "Elio, we have to hide.”

  “Why?” he asked.

  “Now!"

  They jumped off the bike and laid it on its side like it was just another failed escape plan. Elio threw open the door of an old suburban and a wave of stench washed over them.

  Theresa gagged and swallowed hard to keep the contents of her stomach down. Rotten food. Rotten meat. Rotten human meat. Whatever it was made that spot a no-brainer, no thank you. She scanned the line of cars ahead and saw a big Ford truck. The body sat higher than the surrounding cars due to the huge tires it sported. They could get up there and the people passing by wouldn't see them as they passed.

  She grabbed Elio's hand and took off. "Come on!"

  They weaved back and forth between cars and made it to the truck. She jumped up on the sidebar and cracked the passenger door open. Aside from being stifling hot and stuffy, nothing disgusting made it a bad place to hide. She jumped across the passenger seat into the driver seat and Elio followed in behind her.

  He closed the door and peeked above the dash. "Think they saw us?"

  She peered over the steering wheel and saw the dog now maybe seventy yards away and still running in their direction. A group of five people pursued it. One paused and hurled a rock but missed.

  Closer now, she realized her mistake. They weren’t people. Some were completely naked. The others wore odd fragments of fabric that clearly had no purpose. It wasn’t fashionable or functional. It was simply forgotten. Theresa spun around and looked back down the road from the direction they'd come. Another group of deltas, ten or so, headed their way from that direction.

  How could they escape? The two groups were going to converge somewhere in their vicinity.

  She looked at Elio and the resigned look in his eyes said he’d come to the same conclusion.

  “What now?” she asked.

  “Stay quiet. And hope they didn’t see us.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  They locked the doors and then slithered down onto the floorboard. After another minute of tense waiting wondering if she should peek out to see if maybe the two groups had turned back, the frantic sounds of the fleeing dog grew louder. His nails clicked the pavement and then skidded to a stop outside their door. Unintelligible shouting drew n
earer from both directions.

  The dog’s paws smacked into the passenger door and it whined pitifully to be let in. It must’ve smelled them.

  It jumped up again and smacked into Elio’s door. The terror in its begging broke Theresa’s heart. She had a good idea of what was going to happen to it if it was caught. With the wound from losing Max barely scabbed over, she yearned to pull it inside to safety.

  Only there was no safety. If the deltas discovered them inside the truck, the dog wasn’t the only one in trouble.

  The poor thing whimpered and pleaded. Theresa had never heard a more pitiable sound.

  Elio grabbed her wrist and shook his head.

  She realized with a start that she was reaching across him for the door latch. She nodded and pulled her hand back.

  The inhuman screaming, hooting, and hollering arrived. The dog growled and barked viciously in a last ditch attempt to convince its pursuers that it wasn’t worth the effort.

  More shouting and scrambling bodies and then the sound that Theresa hoped to never hear chilled her to the bone. A long, high-pitched whine suddenly cut short with a gurgling choke. The deltas outside exploded into a frenzy of elated cries of victory. The celebration was cut short and the tone again turned dark. The voices moved toward the back of the truck.

  Voices further behind, what must be the larger group arriving, answered in kind. Theresa crept up the seat and peeked out the back window.

  The two groups of deltas stood about ten feet apart. Two men from the smaller group faced five men from the larger group. All of them waved their arms wildly, screaming, trying to intimidate the other group. The women and children stood behind their respective protectors watching to see how the encounter would play out. An older boy in the smaller group nearest the truck pulled against his mother to join the front line guarding his group. She clung to him struggling to keep him away from the danger.

  Theresa had assumed they were part of the same group. That they’d split up to surround the dog. Either that was never the case, or now that the kill had to be shared, one of the groups had changed its mind about cooperation.

  Competition got the meat.

  A young girl at the back of the nearest group looked back and seemed to stare directly into Theresa’s eyes.

  Theresa froze, partly from fear and partly not to give them away with sudden movement. The darkening sky made it unlikely the girl could see through the tinted window, she hoped.

  The girl walked back to the truck and hooked a hand over the tailgate. The suspension shifted as she climbed up into the bed. She sniffed the air and crept toward the cab, totally ignoring the impending violence behind her.

  Shit.

  Theresa slid down into the seat as slowly as she could.

  The patter of the girl’s bare feet drew closer and then her face mashed flat against the rear glass.

  Theresa and Elio curled down into the floorboards trying to make themselves as small as possible.

  The girl’s eyes scanned back and forth and didn’t seem to find them.

  The shouting continued outside as each group tried to intimidate the other into retreat so their group could claim the dog’s body.

  The girl ignored it completely. She slid to the side still trying to see inside the cab. She backed away and Theresa let out a slow sigh of relief. Her lungs were half empty when the girl’s face reappeared.

  Theresa watched in terror as the girl’s eyes swept over the interior and then connected with her own. They locked together in a frozen moment and, for a second, it seemed like nothing more would happen.

  No such luck.

  The girl clawed at the rear window and Theresa realized in a panic that while they’d locked the side doors, they hadn’t thought to lock the sliding rear window.

  Her fingers caught the edge of the window and it slid open an inch. She shoved it aside and poked her head in looking first at Theresa and then at Elio. She appeared more curious than afraid.

  The feeling wasn’t mutual.

  Theresa waved at her to go away but the gesture was lost in translation. Or ignored.

  The girl started hooting in excitement. She was going to draw the other’s attention any second. And then it would be over.

  “Go away!” Theresa whispered.

  The girl poked her head back out and screamed for one of the others to come see what she’d found.

  A chill settled deep in Theresa’s belly. They were dead. They should’ve never run away. How could they have been such idiots?

  Theresa wormed up to the seat and grabbed the girl’s arm. The plan was to fling it outside, slam the window shut, and lock it. It wasn’t a great plan but the alternative seemed worse.

  The girl’s speed caught Theresa off guard. She shrieked and bit Theresa’s wrist.

  Pain lanced up Theresa’s arm and she let go.

  The girl jumped away from the rear window howling like crazy.

  Theresa slammed the window shut and locked it before sinking back down into the floorboard. She dabbed her shirt on the blood welling from the teeth marks in her left wrist. The wound burned like fire.

  The confrontation outside exploded. The fight drowned out the pleas of the little girl. The truck shifted as a large body hopped up into the bed. A woman scooped up the little girl and bounded onto the roof and down over the hood before leaping off to the ground.

  The sounds of the fighting outside did little to distract Theresa from the pain of the bite. She gritted her teeth and bore it because there wasn’t much else she could do.

  The conflict outside subsided and the patter of running feet replaced it. One side had apparently won.

  Theresa crawled up the seat and peeked out the back window. The larger group remained. The largest of them picked up the dead dog and screamed at the losers fleeing south on the highway. He pounded his chest and shook his fist in the air.

  The message couldn’t have been clearer and yet no words were spoken.

  The leader finished screaming at the losers and then turned back to his prize. He grabbed the dog’s back leg and yanked. The dog moaned. It wasn’t dead yet. The man bit into its rear leg and tore off a chunk of flesh. The dog whimpered as more of its blood spilled onto the concrete.

  The man grabbed the rear leg and wrenched it off with a sickening, bone-cracking crunch. Gore dripped from the exposed red meat. He bit into the flesh and gnawed off a large, bloody bite. Red poured down his chin and onto his bare chest.

  Theresa gagged. Her stomach pinched tight and yet she couldn’t look away.

  He was eating it alive. Like an animal.

  The group circled around the body. Three children slipped from behind the women and kicked at the dead dog before darting away screaming.

  “What’s happening?” Elio whispered from the floorboard.

  Theresa couldn’t respond. The savagery shocked her to silence. A remote corner of her brain sensed Elio slide up the seat and peek out next to her.

  The adults gathered around the carcass and began to tear off dripping chunks. A little boy wedged in and sunk his teeth into the dog’s shoulder. He ripped and tore at it struggling to get through the layers of skin and fat. He finally tore off a piece and ran away before the other kids could steal it. The group sat down, huddling close around the body, each focusing on the meal in their hands.

  Theresa and Elio sunk lower into the seats, their wide open eyes just inches apart. How long was this group going to linger right outside the truck? How long before they were discovered with nowhere to run?

  The blood oozing from the bite marks was already starting to slow, but the ache hadn’t let up yet.

  Great.

  In pain. Right next to deltas that had no problem eating a dog alive.

  It was going to be a long night.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  MASON shoveled up one last scoop of dirt and tossed it onto the mound. He slapped the flat of the shovel all over the bulge in the ground. His back ached from the hours of concerted
effort. He wiped sweat from his brow and flung it onto the freshly tilled dirt. The dim light of the LED lantern cast soft shadows on the grass.

  The dead man didn't get a casket and he wasn’t more than four feet under, but it would have to do. Paying due respect had to be balanced against what was physically possible. There was no one to whisk away the cold body. No one to drain the fluids in preparation for viewing. No backhoe to dig out a proper grave.

  Improvise. Adapt. Overcome.

  The Marines drilled that maxim into every jarhead’s brain. It had long since burrowed into the fabric of Mason’s being.

  He leaned on the shovel and glanced up into the dark sky. Where was Beth? She should've been home by now.

  Ahmed leaned over with his hands on his knees. “Should we say something?”

  “Not my area of expertise,” Mason replied. “Go ahead if you want to.”

  Ahmed nodded and then stared at the darker soil of the mound. “May his eternal soul find forgiveness and may he find in the next world the peace he sought in this one.”

  Mason nodded. “Well said. Are you a religious man?”

  Ahmed turned to him. His eyes focused somewhere a million miles in the distance. “I once was, a long time ago.”

  Mason didn’t know how to respond to such a cryptic answer. So he didn’t. “We’ve done the best we can for him.” He picked up a bottle of water and took a long drink. "Let’s head back to see how everybody is doing."

  Ahmed nodded and dabbed his forehead with a mostly white handkerchief. He accepted the offered bottle and guzzled the remaining half.

  Mason shouldered the shovel and grabbed the lantern. He held it between them for a moment and thought he saw something unspoken in Ahmed’s eyes before his neighbor turned away. He was a strange fellow.

  There were times when the silence between them felt frigid with underlying currents. Maybe it was a cultural thing. His daughter Noor had clearly become Americanized and so had no accent. Ahmed’s accent was subtle but Mason still detected it. Unless he was way off base, he placed the origin as being from Iraq. He'd spent enough time there to develop an ear for the peculiar singsong pitch that typified an Iraqi’s flavor of Arabic.