“What the hell - ?” Harley started to complain when I shushed him noisily.
I was only slightly comforted that he had his rifle next to him. As he started to shift it out of the way, I rolled over it, to somehow hide it from Victor. He gave me a bewildered look, tried to shove me away as I rolled in close.
“HOLD ME,” I demanded. His reaction was to push at me, and we struggled until Emmy hissed at us to shut up and go to sleep. I glared pointedly at him, clinging to his bony arms until he stopped fighting me. He tried to turn away, but I grabbed his chin to hold his focus on me, trying to communicate with facial expressions only.
“What is your problem?” he snapped, and people shushed us.
“Get some rest, huh? Save the marital stuff for tomorrow,” Victor suggested, in a tone that made everyone shut up. I lifted my eyebrows – as pointless as that was, considering how my bangs hung over them – at Harley. With a disgusted expression, he faced me – but shoved his arms underneath mine in order to break my hold.
I glared at his chest for a few moments, lulled by his warmth and that of the blanket he’d pulled over us. The rifle was extremely uncomfortable underneath me, but I felt comforted by it – we were still armed. A couple of the ladies started a low conversation about needing to find more tampons, and that encouraged more convos from the guys. I heard Emmy complaining to Lydia about needing warmer pants.
“Remember when you asked me if I was with Jeff’s group?” I whispered, just low enough for him to scrunch his face up. He was completely stiff, straining hard to get away from me without looking too obvious about it. “Well, I had the chance at first. I was hiding, in Red? I heard them talking – I wanted to jump at the chance to join other people.”
“So?”
“I had this feeling. That I wasn’t to trust them.”
“So?”
“I have that feeling now, Harley. I want to get out of here,” I continued, bunching his shirt – my shirt – up in one of my fists for emphasis. “I don’t want to stay with these guys.”
“C’mon, they’re safe, they’re the military -! They’re armed, and they have a better chance of getting us into the city without – “
I repeated my words firmly, to which he frowned and jerked my hands away from him. For a guy with girlish hands, they were pretty strong. I was momentarily stunned by the strength in them. Almost felt a tingle of appreciation before I remembered whose these hands belong to.
He exhaled heavily, staring up at the water-stained ceiling. Conversation started to die away, so I fumbled again, subtly shifting to push his rifle to him. “Does he know about this?” I asked low, catching his attention by pushing the barrel at him. He pushed me slightly to get it free, a slightly alarmed look on his face. Guess I could’ve died at that moment, accidently pulling the trigger with my layered bulk, so I knew it was loaded.
“No,” he replied in a low whisper.
“Get some rest,” Victor repeated, startling us.
I looked at Harley. Waited for him to agree with me, to acknowledge my bad feeling.
He gave an impatient noise. “All right. Okay. Fine.”
“Yey, now go to sleep!” Emmy complained from her side of the room.
I settled against the man, feeling really weird about it. I wondered just how good of a shot he was. Wondered how we were going to get out of the situation. On impulse I asked, “Hey, can we use one of the rooms for a quickie?”
“OH MY GOD,” Emmy exclaimed, making everyone else groan and snap at me for being so damn annoying and noisy.
“Shut up!” Harley hissed at me, growing red while Victor snarled the same thing and told me to go to sleep. I shrugged because I tried, and I couldn’t think of anything else. Just in case he was going to forget about the situation, I bunched my fingers into his shirt once more.
For a few minutes we all laid in silence. I struggled to think of a way to escape this situation. I couldn’t think of another way out of it, and my dread was growing heavier by the moment. By the time the front door opened, the sounds of heavy footfalls causing me to jump, my mind was still a blank. Everyone lifted their head from the floor to look over at this ‘sarge’, and four others. I immediately noticed that Sandy and Benson looked at everything but the people staring up at them with familiarity. That made me extremely nervous.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” the older man said, his voice like a low bark. He scanned all of us, taking his time to take our individual features in. His uniform was blackened with soot and dirt, and his hand shook slightly before he slid it into his pants pocket. “But due to the amount of Rabid in the area, I’ll have to ask all of you to redress and meet me outside. We have found a more suitable location for your safety.”
Hearing this didn’t make me feel better at all.
: :
They had everyone load the vehicles with what had been gathered. I lingered in the shadows near the porch, not contributing to anything because my instincts were screaming at me to be prepared. I was anticipating something, but I didn’t know what – while I refused to help the others load up, shakily applying lipgloss, I noticed that all of the soldiers were stone-faced and stiff. They weren’t displaying any sort of familiarity or giving comfort or offering words of encouragement to anybody. The ladies that had fawned over Benson earlier were rebuffed sternly, and they were shooting me dirty looks every time they passed me.
Emmy was watching me, I noticed. Only because she stopped complaining about the lack of my contribution and made it very open that she was studying my expression.
“Get over it,” she said on her last trip into the doublewide. I didn’t bother to ask her what to ‘get over’, too focused on the soldiers.
Harley was holding a bunch of blankets that he’d been using, and I was utterly relieved that he was effectively hiding his rifle from the others in that moment. He kept giving me suspicious looks, like he was trying to figure me out every time he passed me.
Victor kept frowning at me. There were two other guys standing with them, and they were giving me skeptical looks, almost laughing as I fumbled with my lipgloss. I was aware that I was a joke to them – like, really, how could I have survived so long? I didn’t care about their opinion.
Our newest destination was located in the shallow valley to the back of the community, where the fire burned warmly. While puzzled by the location, the others started filing into their respective vehicles anyway. I took my time making my way to the dually. My heart was thundering hard. Dread made my feet drag, and my fingers to clench on the strap holding my Fubar. Harley kept giving me dirty looks, but he started to lessen their severity once he realized how agitated I was getting. For some reason, Emmy traded her seat in Benson’s truck to be with us – she clutched my arm and muttered that I was acting like a dramatic freak.
By the time it was my turn to get into the truck, it felt like a death sentence. I felt doomed. I looked at Sandy, but she was avoiding any sort of eye contact. Whatever had been decided beyond our ears was something none of us were to walk away from.
“Get in,” Harley urged, as I stared at the seat for a few seconds too long. His ‘blankets’ had been tossed in the back, almost carelessly. I’d noticed Benson scanning our supplies and looking over this scrawny guy for indication of his weapon. The curious thing was that he didn’t say anything out loud in regards to it.
“No,” I replied firmly, looking away from the truck. Everyone was too busy getting comfortable for the short drive into that valley. I looked up at him. “No, I don’t want to.”
“Get in, c’mon,” Jordan complained, giving me a dirty look while he started the diesel. It rumbled to life, spewing fumes into the cold air while the other vehicles started just as noisily.
“Just get in! C’mon, we’re all tired, and we want to get to sleep,” Harley said impatiently, hand at my arm.
Emmy’s hands were deep in her Elmo sweater pockets, knee jiggling – but she didn’t wear the same expression as everyone else. She lo
oked at me, then at the two in the front seat with a suspicious expression.
Feeling desperate, I searched for any other excuse to stall. Those in uniform were ignoring questions from the others they had in their vehicles. I could see puzzled expressions from them, and noted that Sandy was chewing on the inside of her cheek as she focused beyond the windshield. Her previously chatty, abrasive self was now reluctant to partake in any sort of contact with those she’d been open to.
Emmy looked over at me, saying cheerfully, “It’ll be okay…c’mon. We can do this together, if you want.”
I looked at her sharply. She was still smiling, but her fingers were drumming against the knife at her thigh. I had the ultra-strong sensation of relief in that she knew what I was thinking. That she was reassuring me in a way that told me she wasn’t about to stand by and be slaughtered, either.
I climbed into the dually and sat next to her. She was breathing as heavily as I was, but struggling similarly to control it. Harley stared at us for a couple of moments after settling in, then looked at the guy that shut the door as he settled at the end of the seat. Sandy stared out her window and Jordan locked the doors before following after the others. We were the last vehicle in the convoy. That was only slightly relieving.
Emmy’s hand was shaking as her fingers found mine in the darkness. She squeezed so hard that I winced. As we bumped over the speed bumps in the road, I pulled my Fubar from behind me. Instead of laying it completely over my lap, I held it inches from the wrench head, my limbs shaking. Harley kept looking at me, but I ignored his expression as I watched the road ahead of us.
Emmy had her knife out, and was squeezing it tightly with both hands. She looked at me, and I looked at her – she looked terrified, but she nodded to show that she knew exactly as I felt. When we neared the Lockwood bridge, she looked at me again. I felt my pulse race. Her eyes darted to Jordan, and then to Sandy. I looked at Sandy, shook my weapon slightly to show her that I’d got this. She nodded to indicate that she was okay with it.
I took a deep breath, exhaled slowly to somehow relax myself – but it didn’t work because Emmy was up and plunging her knife into Jordan’s shoulder, making him scream aloud as he jerked the wheel, Sandy starting to move with a startled shout. Before she could do anything, I hit her with a sideways jerk of my weapon, the wrench side knocking her into the window. It was hard hitting somebody that resisted – like hitting a cement wall. I put all my weight and desperation into another hit, then another, heaving with the effort. It jolted my arms, my shoulders – it was a hundred times harder actually doing it than watching it on tv.
Harley hollered as he got caught up in the mess, somehow angling over me to reach over to the driver’s seat, lunging forward to catch the wheel as Jordan struggled to escape Emmy’s murderous intentions. I kept hitting Sandy in order to keep her off balance – out of breath, my arms already jelly. The man on the other side of Harley struggled to get the door open, but it was apparent that the child-safety locks had been activated.
The dually swerved, no doubt catching the attention of the others as it swarmed into dirt before Harley could control it. But Jordan’s feet still manipulated the pedals, and he slammed on the brakes. Harley went tumbling onto the seat, Emmy crashing into Jordan as he was trapped under Harley’s body. I caught Sandy’s helmet within the teeth of my weapon, and we struggled to free ourselves. Somehow, Harley was able to open the driver’s side door and shove Jordan out while he took the front seat – Emmy screamed that the others were opening fire on their passengers.
Harley unlocked the doors, and Sandy bailed – so did the guy once he heard the doors unlock.
Gunning it, Harley turned the vehicle around and struggled for something to say while Emmy screamed about how the others were being murdered. I fell onto the front seat as well, popping up awkwardly to look out the window. I saw that the other soldiers were dropping the others onto the street, gunfire flashing spurts of color in the darkness. I also saw that the sarge was screaming at the first vehicle to follow us. Harley took the road along the river with white knuckles. The truck vibrated with the speed he took over those obstacles, our heads banging off various surfaces as the truck rattled with his efforts.
“They were going to kill us!” Emmy screeched, clutching onto the seat while straining to look behind her. “They were going to kill all of us! Why?”
“Maybe they thought we were infected, too,” I answered breathlessly. “They had knowledge of that virus, long before this happened – maybe all of them were vaccinated, or something, to prevent from being infected.”
Emmy had some creative names for them, still breathing heavily. “They’re catching up to us! They’re going to shoot us, Harley, drive faster!”
I slouched low in my seat, gripping my Fubar hard. My heart was beating so fast that I felt like it was going to burst from my chest. I propped my feet up on the dash to steady myself.
“Emmy, lie down!” Harley then commanded, as I became aware of sharp-pitched pops behind us. She shrieked once she realized we were being shot at. He turned abruptly, my arms whipping out for a steady hold on the door and dash, to keep from rolling onto the floor.
“I don’t – want – to - die – like this!” Emmy hollered, half sobbing, her voice being muffled as she followed through with what Harley said. “They – were- supposed to – save us!”
“Well, they didn’t. They wanted to kill us,” I said.
“What are we going to do?”
I held tightly onto my weapon. I couldn’t see where Harley was driving us, but we hit a dirt road. Terror hit me, then, and I lifted my head, ignoring his order to keep down. I saw the fires in Sparks, the smoke that blanketed the valley sky. It was slowly disappearing behind us, the angle of the dirt road we were taking telling me that we were moving further from it.
“NO! Turn back around!” I cried. Glass shattered and changed that idea, Emmy screaming as Harley ducked. Tires spun, slid, and then the truck straightened out. Something heavy clanged against the bed in the back, and I dimly remembered his rifle being back there. “We’re going away from Reno, we need to go to Reno!”
“I can’t! Not with those guys behind me!” Harley shouted at me. We had to duck again, as glass shattered over the seats. The headlights of the vehicle behind us were blinding, and I could no longer see the city as I ducked behind the seat.
I reached blindly for the door handle. Harley saw what I was doing, and reached over, yanking at my jacket to pull me away. The truck swerved, Emmy screamed, and I pulled away with an enraged roar.
“I’ve got to go home!”
“We’ll get there! Just not right now!”
“Turn back around!” I cried uselessly. I knew it wasn’t possible at this moment – but I was reacting primitively. Frustrated that, as close as I was to home, I was being pulled away again.
: :
Somehow, Harley lost them. The silence was immense – it was cold, the night creeping in through the shattered back window. Emmy was sniffling on the floor behind us, and when I finally peeked up, I saw that we were surrounded by the darkness of the desert. The night sky twinkled down on us, and I wanted to cry in frustration.
“We’re almost out of gas,” he mumbled. Thumped on the dash to indicate the glowing light.
For a long time, we didn’t say anything. The sounds of wildlife grew apparent, and Emmy eventually stopped crying. Harley turned the vehicle off, and, with the motor silenced, it felt like we were the only remaining people in the world.
I lifted my head as he climbed out. I couldn’t even tell where we were – everything was pure black. I slowly righted myself in the seat, Fubar dropping to the floor. Staring out the dusty windshield, I tried telling myself that it was going to be okay. Because we were still alive, and there was more than one way into Reno.
We just had to find it.
Chapter Nine
It was nearly evening, almost an entire day by the time our quiet walk ended at a sprawling, aban
doned ranch. I was pretty glum that this area had the destroyed Tracy Clark in the visible distance, as well as the other warehouses and buildings that Patrick sheltered. The Wild Horse Brothel was visible as well, but its flashy red lights had died, leaving it a gaudy sprawl that had once been busy with wild west debauchery.
Horses approached us with friendly whinnies, but I didn’t bother with them, unsure of how to behave around animals bigger than a canine. Harley paused to take in the area with a squinty-eyed observation – I hurried forward because I was hoping that the place had working electricity and hot water.
“You think we lost them?” Emmy was asking Harley by the time I’d emerged from the largest bathroom in the house, a massive sprawl in a bedroom decorated with gaudy rodeo things. Whoever the people were that owned the house had plucked their gun cabinet clean, left behind a trail of papers from an open safe, and had left a gory mess in the living room. I didn’t bother looking at the cheerful pictures lining the walls.
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