Noah raised the bat in response, looking wildly in all directions.
The kid had been right. It was the damned beef.
“Forget the RV,” he whispered. “We need to get back in that van and get as far away as possible. It’s too dangerous.”
He turned in the opposite direction, leading with the pistol. Behind him, the van door was open. Delta had gotten out. He motioned for her to get back inside.
“I thought I heard voices,” she explained. She turned and hopped back into the van, opening the door to a crack. As she got inside, an object fluttered to the ground behind her.
Sam reached down and picked up the object. He ran his fingers over it in the dark.
It felt like a photograph.
25
Noah jumped back into the driver’s seat. He fumbled in his pockets for the keys, and then realized he had left them in the ignition. His roommate leaned forward from the backseat.
“What happened?” Kendall whispered. “Was somebody in the RV?”
“We didn’t get that far,” Noah said. “It’s bad, man. That newspaper article, the attacks—they’re all related. There was a radio on the picnic table...”
“Let’s get out of here, Noah!” Sam interrupted.
Noah turned the key. The van fired up without hesitation. He exhaled loudly and put it into reverse. He needed to turn the vehicle around.
“We should ditch the trailer.” Kendall cursed from the backseat.
“We can do that later,” Sam said. “We need to get out of here. Out of this state. It’s our only hope.”
Noah maneuvered backwards, sliding the steering wheel in the opposite direction from the turn. He felt the trailer start to jackknife, and put the van back in drive. Normally, he was pretty efficient, but his nerves had kicked in.
He pulled towards the RV, intending to execute a sharp turn. As he did so, a pair of brake lights snapped on, casting a red glow on the hood of the van.
Somebody was inside the RV.
The camper’s engine fired up, filling the night air with a plume of exhaust. Noah pulled forward, then reversed, attempting to change course. In front of them, they could still see through the window of the RV. A hand moved toward the shade, tugging at the bottom. It spun upwards and rolled on the track. A bearded man stared out at them, dressed in a camouflage jacket and pants. He pressed a shotgun against the window and stared into the van. His eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept in days.
“Forget turning around—just go!” Sam yelled.
Noah hit the gas hard. The tires kicked up dirt and gravel. The van leapt into motion, screeching onto the roadway and heading deeper into the mountains. In the passenger seat, the girl clung on to her seat, knuckles white.
Noah glanced behind them, catching the glare of headlights. He gunned the engine. The RV had pulled out of the inlet, right on their tail.
26
Sam twisted the pistol in his right hand. With the trailer behind them, his view of the RV was poor. He considered leaning out of one of the windows and firing at it. But with only two bullets left, his chances of landing a well-placed shot were slim.
Were they sure the person behind them was an enemy? After all, they had been the ones who had breached the campgrounds, creeping up on someone’s territory.
On the other hand, if he were the person or persons in the RV, he would have chosen to drive in the opposite direction, not to pursue an unknown vehicle filled with people. Especially if the RV owner had heard the radio broadcast. Nothing seemed to make sense.
If Sam had heard that announcement prior to today, he wasn’t sure he would have believed it. In fact, a few times during the night he had pictured himself waking up in his bed in White Mist, shaking off the remnants of a bad dream.
Especially after what had happened to Karen and Chloe. For the past few years, he had struggled to find purpose in his existence, to find a reason to keep going.
He thought back to his first few months alone, when the pain was sharp and condemning. He’d blamed himself for leaving that night at the hotel. If only he had been there. If only he could have saved them.
His remaining family had suggested he sell White Mist and return to Albuquerque, to surround himself with people who could provide comfort and support. He had stubbornly refused.
Instead, he had continued to operate the store alone. Routine provided escape, and the daily chatter of transient customers provided a window to normalcy. He would not find that in the arms of his family. They would only remind him of what he had lost with their sympathetic gestures and downturned glances.
He was better off alone. Or so he had thought. He looked around at the other passengers.
Right now, the people in this van needed his help.
Sam felt a surge of strength overtake him. He smiled as he pictured Karen’s face as she joked with him that he needed to change his eating habits. If only she knew how right she had been.
The roar of the RV grew louder, jolting Sam back to reality. It sounded as if the vehicle were intent on ramming into the trailer. He squeezed the handle of the gun. He needed to find a way out of the situation—for all of their sakes.
Sam felt something smooth in his left palm, and realized he was still gripping the object he had found on the ground. He looked down at it, and saw that it was indeed a picture.
Through the dim lights of the van, he saw a familiar face staring back at him. It was a picture of him from several years back. Right around the time his family had been murdered.
On the back a few words had been scrawled in neat cursive.
Sam Cook. White Mist, New Mexico.
In a flash it all became clear. The girl had been searching for him.
David Monroe—the man who had murdered his family—had a daughter.
Sam remembered now. It had been a few years, but he vaguely recalled her presence in the courtroom during the trial. At the time, he had been so distraught that he erased some of the details from his memory. She had been hiding in the back—probably ashamed at what her father had done.
Now, as he stared at the back of her head, he found himself wishing he had paid more attention.
He tucked the picture in his pocket. He had known something wasn’t right about her from the moment they had first met on the highway. Something about her blue eyes and demeanor seemed—well, just off.
For all he knew, the girl could have been watching him for weeks—months even—trying to determine the right way to approach him. She’d finally succeeded, in the midst of the chaos that was now playing out around them.
Maybe she was part of that chaos.
From the front seat, her head turned to the side as the van shook. He caught a glimpse of her eyes, which seemed darker than he remembered.
The van jolted forward, skidding slightly as the RV slammed into them from behind. Sam had two bullets. He knew he’d better make them count.
27
The RV honked and flashed its lights. Noah heard the sound of someone yelling, and then realized the sound was coming from his own mouth. The van wound its way into the mountains.
Route 191 had thinned out even more. With every turn, the van’s headlights illuminated a new curve in the road. One wrong maneuver would send the van and trailer tumbling hundreds of feet off of a remote cliff. If someone were to come looking for them, it would be years before they were found.
And nobody knew they were here.
Aside from that, the contamination had probably infected most of the southwestern states. He thought briefly of his family in Nebraska, and felt a small sense of relief. At least they were farther away. Maybe they’re safe, he thought.
Kendall crouched between the front seats, staring out the side mirrors.
“He’s going to ram us off the edge!”
/> Delta gripped the bottom of her seat, biting her lips. In the back, Sam clutched the pistol, deciding the best course of action.
Sam spoke up. “We can try stopping suddenly when we get to a straightaway. Maybe it will scare him enough to back off. We can’t continue to be hit from behind—it’s too dangerous. Those trailer tires are thin.”
“I don’t see anything remotely straight coming up, Sam!” Noah warned. “Besides, with the way he’s ramming us, I doubt he’d care if we stopped.”
The RV revved its engine behind them and came in for another pass, brushing the back of the trailer. One of the trailer tires kicked up off the ground with the impact. Noah heard a thud, and pictured the couch colliding with the trailer walls.
“We’re going to pop a tire!” Kendall yelled.
Up ahead, a tight curve approached to their left. “Sam, do you think you can get off a shot when we round this bend?”
Sam squeezed beside him, next to the driver’s seat, and poked his head out the window.
“We’ll find out soon enough!” he yelled against the wind.
Noah let up on the gas as the van rounded the turn. The trailer pitched to the side. He heard Sam fire a shot into the night, and then the sound of glass shattering behind them.
28
Sam had hit his mark. The RV’s front windshield collapsed into tiny fragments. The headlights blinded him, but he could see the silhouette of the driver hunched over in the seat. He wasn’t sure if the man was ducking, or if he had been hit.
He hoped for the latter.
Noah let off the gas and the van slowed to a crawl.
“Is he dead?”
“I’m not sure. I wouldn’t assume anything at this point,” Sam said.
“We should probably check, right? What if he’s not one of those things? What if he was just trying to defend himself?” Noah asked.
Sam nodded grimly. Even though the RV driver had been trying to kill them, the man might still be alive. He looked at the pistol. He had one bullet left.
The girl shifted in her seat, and he quickly turned his attention to her. He wasn’t sure if she could be trusted. He needed to find out what else she was hiding, but he would have to wait until the present situation was dealt with.
The van came to a stop. Its headlights lit up the side of a beautiful mountain range. Green foliage and trees peppered the landscape. Sam found himself thinking this area would remain untouched for years to come. Especially with no one left to develop it. The thought gave him little comfort.
The edge of the cliff was dangerously close. He figured the tires couldn’t be more than a foot or so from slipping into the darkness below. Although he couldn’t see off the side, he imagined the drop was several hundred feet. His stomach hitched.
“I’ll check on the driver,” he said finally. He opened the door.
The RV’s headlights blurred his vision. After a few seconds, his eyes adjusted, and he was able to assess the damage to the vehicle behind them. Shards of glass clung to the window frame. The driver was keeled over in the front seat.
Sam shuddered. In one night, he’d been responsible for the death of two living things. He relaxed his grip on the pistol and fought the urge to be sick.
The man certainly appeared to be dead. But he needed to be sure. He needed to know.
He thought back to White Mist, to the trucker whose body probably still lay in the dirt. He wondered if the man would ever have a proper burial, if somewhere, his family was looking for him. Certainly, the man in the RV had had loved ones as well, regardless of the circumstances he had found himself in. The door hung open, and Sam looked down to find his footing.
“Sam, wait!” Noah hissed.
Sam looked back again. The shadow in the RV had begun to move.
“He’s still alive!”
Had he been biding his time? Maybe he’d been waiting for them to approach so he could resume his attack at close range.
“Shit!” Sam yelled.
The RV engine roared, and Sam saw the driver grip the wheel. It would take a minute for the RV to get moving, but the man’s intentions were clear. They needed to get out of the van.
“Everybody out—now! He’s going to ram us again!”
29
Delta watched the RV behind them with increasing nervousness, trying to calculate their next move. She stared at the man with the beard who was holding the shotgun, and wondered if it was the last face she would see.
The RV driver revved the gas. He was going to push the van off the cliff.
Her eyes felt like they were going to implode, and she felt a blinding pain from behind them. She fought to keep her anxiety from taking over. She needed to think clearly.
“Get out now!” Sam yelled again, this time in her direction.
Sam motioned for her to move. She reached for the door handle, blinded by the lights of the RV behind them. The glare lit up the side of the van, casting a white glow over her companions. She raised her arm to deflect the light. Her body shook as she looked into the backseat.
Kendall sat next to Sam, breathing heavily. His eyes had turned black; his face was pale. His lips curved upward, revealing a mouthful of crooked teeth. He had been contaminated.
“Sam, watch out!” she yelled.
Kendall lunged toward Sam, digging deep into the man’s arm with his fingernails. Sam shrieked in agony, and blood spurted into the air, spraying Delta’s face in the backdraft. Her mouth tasted of copper and adrenaline.
The empty rifle sat between her legs. She moved one arm, then the other, trying to break through the mental gridlock. She needed to react. If she didn’t, Sam would die. Her heart beat furiously. She broke through it and grabbed hold of the gun.
With a scream, she leapt into the fray.
She swung the rifle, connecting with Kendall’s tattooed shoulder. At the same time, Sam wriggled free and reached for the door handle. He opened the door and toppled out into the darkness.
Delta grappled with Kendall. The kid clawed at her, and pain rippled through her forearms. A voice cried out from behind her.
“Get out the door—quick!”
Noah reached towards her from the front seat. She felt his arms enter the entanglement of limbs, trying to pull her free.
Underneath her, Kendall hissed and squirmed, raking his nails across her stomach. Her tank top was drenched, and she wondered briefly if she was being disemboweled.
She heard a loud crash, and felt the van sway. The RV had collided with them. Its headlights lit up the backseats, momentarily blinding her. She thrust the gun barrel in Kendall’s direction. It connected with Kendall’s teeth, cracking several of them with the rifle’s metal casing. Suddenly, Delta was free, and she rolled sideways on the seat towards the exit.
Noah leapt into the back on top of his roommate. He raised his arms high above his head, holding what looked like a razor. As Delta dove for the open door, she saw Noah plunge the weapon deep into his friend’s neck.
30
Noah screamed in horror as he realized what he had done.
Blood sprayed onto the seats, and Kendall yelled in agony. The RV’s engine screamed from behind them, kicking up debris as it attempted to push the vehicle off the cliff. Thick, acrid exhaust made Noah cough.
Kendall’s arms flailed uncontrollably as he tried to wrench the shiv free from his neck. His face had contorted into something less than human. If there was any trace left of the Kendall that Noah had known, it was consumed by darkness.
Noah held his hands in front of his face, shielding his eyes from the RV’s headlights. The bearded man stared out at him with wild eyes. He was holding up his shotgun, as if to indicate there was no escape.
In the distance, Noah could make out the silhouettes of Sam and the girl. They had crawled about
twenty feet away, out of the RV’s path. The girl was yelling for him to jump out. Noah braced himself between the two front seats, struggling to stand as the vehicle shook around him.
Kendall came towards him. Noah looked out the open passenger side door, where only a few feet separated the van from the edge of the cliff. He needed to move.
Noah stepped over the passenger seat. He felt his feet slide out from underneath him, and he fell out of the van and into the dirt. Knees stinging, he crawled on his stomach between the van and the cliff, wondering if he would make it clear in time.
31
Sam lay facedown in the dirt, twenty feet from the van. He had crawled as far as he was able to before collapsing. His face hugged the ground, his mouth caked with a mixture of sand and stone, and pain shot through his left arm. He felt himself drifting in and out of consciousness.
The girl was trying to help him up. Her thin arms flexed as she pulled at his armpits, but Sam flopped back to the ground.
He heard her shriek towards the van, and looked up in time to see two vehicles topple over the edge of the cliff.
“No!”
She collapsed to the ground, her eyes welling up with tears.
The van descended first, followed by the trailer, and then the RV. The trailer hitch bent almost in half, threatening to snap, and then went into a free fall. The RV followed from the rear.
A pair of red brake lights flashed suddenly from the back of the RV. Perhaps the bearded man had realized his error at the last second. The red glow persisted, even as the mangled conglomeration toppled into the darkness and out of sight.
Sam’s eyes fluttered and closed. He was still conscious for a few seconds, but not long enough to hear the explosion that rocked the mountains below.
Contamination Box Set [Books 0-7] Page 16
