"Um, well, we came in from Fernley. Separated at Scheels," I explained briefly.
Chuck's face gave this little twist – it was funny, because it made him look a little soft. His eyes turned anxious, and Diego touched his arm, as if giving him support. Clearing his throat, Chuck asked, "Who were your people?"
"This redneck from Cold Springs. Harley Troy. A couple of kids we found on the way," I said with a shrug.
Chuck's face reddened, and he gave this sound, like he'd been holding his breath for a long time. Diego's face brightened, and when they looked at each other, I instantly realized why Chuck looked so fucking familiar. Before I could even say anything, Chloe asked hastily, "Is he okay? Which way was he going?"
"Cold Springs."
Chuck whirled away and began to stride back towards Oddie, intending on head west. "He might be taking the freeway home, Diego! We can get there, and look."
"No wonder you looked so familiar!" I exclaimed. "I'm beginning to think that cockroach will survive anything. Hey, good luck looking for him!"
"Watch out for hordes, princess," Chloe said, shoving past me. I almost fell, but Diego caught me. He gave me a patient look, reaching back into his pack.
He withdrew a smaller bag, something I fumbled with as I tried to glare after the big man that had almost stepped on me. "Extra food. Jerky. Matches. Toilet paper. An emergency fire blanket. The camp in Sparks is located at Mendive Middle school. If you should go there, they are keeping tracks of names. You never know – your parents could be there."
"But they're probably waiting for me," I said, taking the bag. "I'm just trying to get home."
Diego gave me a slight frown, a gentle look of consternation. "If you can get around the military presence there, then I'm sure you'll be fine. But it's hostile. Be careful. Travel at night."
I nodded because I felt like I had to, and watched him go. With this valuable information in mind, I looked at the bag that Diego had given me. I clutched it with both hands, feeling panicked because I don't remember dad ever saying anything about a flu shot. I don't remember mom bugging him about one.
I had to wonder if they were truly safe, if I was making the right decision in going home. What if they weren't there? What if they were at one of these military camps?
What if they weren't in Reno?
I swallowed tightly, unsure of what to do, where to go. I gave the empty parking lot a helpless expression, practically mindless with indecision. I wanted to go home, and yet - ! What if I did, and…and then what?
Chapter Thirteen
I thought about what I was going to do in order to find my parents. I also had to think about how, if I found nothing at home, how I was going to approach Camps 2 and 7.
I heaved a tired sigh. I was conflicted on my efforts, but…I told myself that if I was able to make it this far, then my parents weren’t that far away from me. My dad could still take care of my mom, and – if luck was carrying me this far, then it shouldn’t be so stingy with them. They were out there somewhere. I just had to keep looking. I sat down and pulled my bag onto my lap. I went through the supplies I had, then found space to put the pack in. Just to be on the safe side, I put my matches in a pocket I could easily reach. Since I was near K-Mart, I figured I should load up on stuff like this.
The store was ransacked – everything valuable was gone. Blankets, clothes, camping things, food – but I noticed that some of the household cleaners were left, and I ventured towards these things. I found more hairspray, some Raid, then went looking for dishrags, candles, oil.
Afterward, I began my walk on Oddie. I heard a dog barking in the distance, and birds called from the nearby park. I heard a woman's cackle from somewhere in the parking area beyond me – it comforted me that there were survivors still out, but I didn't want to run into any. I was really tired, and couldn't think straight – I was stressed over what Chuck had told me, and I didn't know what I was going to do if I found that my parents weren't at home. Somewhere near the 395 north freeway overpass on Oddie, I paused. I stared out at the houses beyond the freeway, the line of abandoned cars at my front.
I could take Oddie directly to Wells. From there, I could get home.
But what if they weren't there?
My lower lip trembled, and I looked behind me.
I could take Oddie all the way back to Prater, and that would take me to Mendive Middle school. A day's walk from this area. I could go there, check in my name, check to see if they were there – after all, it was near I-80, the freeway out to Fernley. What if they had gone looking for me that night? What if their car was stuck there, and they'd walked back - ?
Oh, God, I didn't know what to do. What if I went all the way home and discovered that they were in Sparks? Or if I went back to Sparks, and discovered that they weren't there? What if the military guys took them into their safe camp and made it impossible for them to reach me?
Either way, I'd have a long walk to do because I made the wrong decision.
I swallowed hard. The area was so silent and still that it felt like time had stopped. Nothing moved. The cold was just as vicious as it had been last night, and though the snow melted, the skies promised more as clouds rolled in from the north. It looked like it had fallen thickly on the mountains, and a strong wind was picking up.
I was just about to continue forward on Oddie, to just go as far as I could until nightfall when I heard a strange noise. A horse was jogging down from the on-ramp onto 395 South, and the sight was extremely strange to me. I saw horse trailers all the time – this was still Reno, part of the Wild West, but to see a horse just galloping about from the freeway was just a strange sight to see.
It looked as if it noticed me, and began moving in my direction with a sound of discovery. I don't know what to do with horses, how to behave around them – they were more dangerous than dogs, I suppose, and I heard they bite. Anxiously, I looked around myself, intending on walking briskly away from the animal. I heard the sound of its hooves hitting the street as it moved into a gallop, and I figured, from the pace it took, that it wasn't going to kill or attack me in anyway. Maybe it was like a human, just happy to see something living.
I turned to address it in some way, and stopped short. I couldn't describe seeing this humanoid thing pull the horse up into the air with a jerk, the animal emitting a scream I'd never heard before. I don't know where this alien thing came from. I didn't even see it appear. It was just suddenly there – eating the horse.
I turned and ran because I didn't want to see what happened next – I ran back the way I came, certain that thing was going to come after me. But when I looked back, it was occupied with what remained of the animal that had, moments before, been relieved to see me.
I used that occupation to get as far away as possible from the thing, and, in the end, decided to keep on running.
: :
I found a Hummer overturned on its driver's side near the intersection of Pyramid and Prater and crawled inside. It was cold, I was freezing, tired – I just wanted to sleep. Inside was a sprawl of clothes that had been stuffed into trash bags – things packed in a haste for the people that had owned the vehicle. They were now essential with keeping me warm. I was too scared to light a fire, thinking I'd attract Rabid and the thing that killed the horse. Along with human predators.
I pulled as much as the clothes and towels as I could onto me, and cried myself to sleep. I didn't like that I was back in Sparks, I didn't like that I was farther away from home than I was in Fernley – because, dammit, I was just right in town and I was still so far away - !
I cried because I was frustrated, tired, hungry and so fucking alone. I was getting used to not having people around me, and I started to realize that I did need people. Well, people who did things my way, with me.
I couldn't help but feel that Harley was lucky to have the kids with him, to have his father mere moments from finding him. I couldn't help but feel jealous, feel anger, and feel frustration that my own father h
adn't found me yet. Dad knew how helpless I was – so why hadn't I found him, yet? Didn't he know how much peril I had been in since that First night? Why wasn't he here?
I was angry at myself for thinking this way, because I knew he was safe with mom somewhere. I just…I just wanted to be with them. That's all.
The next morning, I left the vehicle with sluggish action. I was so sore that moving was an extreme chore. Every part of me ached. I was starving, my feet hurt, I had to pee, but I didn't want to do it out in the open. I wanted working bathrooms, I wanted a shower, I wanted new clothes – I wanted to be in my own bed!
I stretched and glared at the streets around me. Nothing moved, but the wind was blowing harder and the clouds were covering up the sun that was shining so brilliantly yesterday. It was definitely going to snow, and I knew I had to get somewhere solid, safe. I wiped my bleary eyes, and begrudgingly headed up Prater. I hoped to God my parents were at the school.
I had nearly reached the intersection of Prater and McCarren when I heard the gunshots. They were like firecrackers exploding in a trashcan. I could hear the echo of ricochets, the sound of glass breaking and metal bursting under impact. Shouts rang out, and men screamed at each other to stand down. So much screaming, so many orders – I didn't know where they were coming from. I whirled around as more gunshots rang out, and a cop cruiser's window exploded out by my side.
I squealed and crouched, covering my head. Not even moments later, three guys ran by, reloading their guns. They were dressed in military garb, and screaming orders to each other and at those behind them as they whirled around to shoot. One of them was hit, and he fell to the pavement while the other two ducked for cover.
The cruiser I sat against shifted as someone crawled atop of it, firing repeatedly with a shotgun. From the death scream, I knew one of the soldiers were dead. The other pleaded for understanding as to why they were being turned upon. Pleading turned to cursing, and more gunshots rang out as the two exchanged rounds with each other.
The guy with the shotgun fell on me, dead. I pushed his body away, scrambling to my feet. The moment I was up, my arm was ensnared within a vice-like grip, and people shouted about the area being clear. I had time to see civilians with guns moving briskly with soldiers dressed in various uniforms, all of them looking exhausted. There were more survivors within the group, scared women and children carrying all that they could, and I realized these were the good guys.
The guy that grabbed me wasn't a guy at all.
"You're fucking kidding me!" Sandy exclaimed, looking extremely pale underneath her freckles. "You okay?"
"Are you still shooting everybody?" I asked warily, being pulled alongside her as she then turned away from me and bellowed forcefully towards a guy struggling to strip the dead soldiers' gear from their bodies. Once her attention returned to me, she yanked me along with her, the group of us heading up Prater.
"No, not anymore," she said breathlessly. I think it didn't occur to her that I was moving fine – she was pulling me because everyone else was being hustled as best as they could go. Everyone looked exhausted. All but three of the guys were holding onto clinging children, bags stuffed with valuables dangling against wearily moving bodies. I had to wonder if I'd seen these guys yesterday, behind Rail City.
"There isn't that many people, anymore," Sandy continued, winded as she glanced around herself. I had to look for Benson, but the guys wearing their helmets looked the same to me. I recognized the Army gear of a couple of soldiers, along with some Marines. I was going to ask Sandy again what branch she and Benson were from when she said, "So we're helping everyone we can find. There's a safe place for all over you, at this school. We're taking you there."
"Do I have a choice?" I tried to ask, pulling at my arm when she then looked at me with surprise, then around me, coming to a stop.
"Where's the rest of you?"
"We went our separate ways. Harley couldn't tolerate my attitude, anymore," I said, rubbing at my arm. "Ow, you have the strength of a man. That's almost a turn-on."
"You - !" she trailed off wearily. She pushed me ahead of her, signaling that I keep moving with the others. One of the guys in uniform passed over some bags he had strapped on him, and I almost stumbled as I took them, handling them awkwardly as I slung them around my shoulders.
They kept us moving at this grueling pace. The women carrying their children looked like they were going to drop, but their kids kept them going with encouragement, soft cries. The people in uniform had us surrounded with their guns, taking in the area with caution. It wasn't with the duck and hide caution that I had gotten used to. It was practically a sprint towards uncertainty. The civilian guys with guns were telling the soldiers where to go, so it seemed like the friendly military cover had just recently joined their group.
"Down! Down!" one of the guys shouted, before gunfire erupted again. Everyone dropped behind abandoned vehicles as bullets sprayed over the metal. Women screamed in panic, frantically covering their children while those with guns began moving to better vantage points to fire back. Sandy shoved me so hard against a Blazer that I knocked my head off the window before collapsing.
Two of the civilian guys fell, their guns clattering over the pavement.
An alien scream tore through the air, and Sandy cursed before ducking suddenly. My eyes widened at the sound of an Usher, and the approaching sounds of an incoming Rabid flock. It sounded as if they were coming up from ahead, and I fumbled with my bag, shoving the newest ones off me in a frantic race to get to my supplies. I heard orders shouted away from us as the incoming threat caused those guys to stop shooting at us.
Above the sound of the Rabid snarls and screams, the Usher's accompanying commands, Sandy and the others began coaxing the women and children to move with them, using the distraction of the Rabid's intention on the other group of people. The guys on our side were shooting frantically to provide some cover – people screamed those horrendous screams they made when the Rabid overtook them. With how rapidly they changed, I knew this group would be overrun in seconds.
I removed my jacket, scanning the cars' gas tanks around me. I found an old Ford truck with a toolbox in the back that had an accessible gas tank. Sandy was busy prompting some of the women to run, pushing children after them, so when she turned to see if I were there, she ran back with a frantic screech. Rabid crawled over the front of the Ford as I lit my jacket on fire. Flames licked the air and quickly warmed the gas tank as I hurried away, pulling out a can of hairspray. I stuffed it into the tank as best as I could, frantic to get some distance.
A snarling guy leapt towards Sandy as she was shooting at two newly converted soldiers that reached for her. I went for one of the guns that had been dropped by those shot dead, and just held the trigger down. Recoil caused the gun to jerk back into my face, but the Rabid dropped to the pavement. Sandy stumbled over it, regained her footing, then turned and bullrushed me away from the Rabid that were starting to swarm over the vehicles we'd taken cover behind.
It was happening so fast, this horde bigger than the one I'd dealt with earlier.
"Sandy! The gas tank! Shoot it!" I hollered over the crazed noises.
Sandy whirled as I continued running, and she came to a decision because the pop!-pop!-pop! sound unleashed from her automatic sounded so tame compared to the explosion that rocked the street. I stumbled and fell as heat spread over us, and Sandy crashed down on top of me. But both of us turned to see what had been accomplished, and fiery Rabid snarled, looking for new victims.
It seemed hopeless – my plan didn't work. I had the crazy thought that these things adapted, somehow, until I saw the Usher moving around the fire's reach. It had been touched by the explosion, but it made sense that the Rabid were still moving.
"Kill it! Kill it!" I shouted at her. "It controls the zombies!"
Gunfire erupted over our heads as some of the guys returned, opening fire on the Usher and the Rabid that came too close. But once the alien fell with
a scratchy gurgle, the Rabid stopped their attack. They stumbled about, losing motor functions – the smell of their burning flesh was horrendous. But the soldiers saw what I meant, staring quietly at the burning wreckage as Rabid bodies fell.
Sandy hauled me to my feet as the guys with guns surveyed the area for more threats. I brushed myself off, catching my breath, and observed the burning area with another cheesy grin. I looked at her, impressed by my own genius.
"See that? I am amazing, aren't I? I figured it out all by myself, with no man to help me," I said proudly, adjusting my vest and shirts underneath.
"You did that?" she asked skeptically, trying not to smile too broadly at me. "You figured that out?"
"Harley said I was stupid, but who's the stupid one that figured out how to kill aliens and shit? Me." I gestured at myself with both thumbs. Then I licked a finger and touched my ass, making a sizzling sound. It felt good to celebrate success.
The Long Way To Reno Page 20
