What seemed like minutes only amounted to seconds before the end of a long assault rifle poked out from the edge of the garage entry. Presumably, one of Davenport’s armed men, dressed in black protective gear crept low and slowly approached the first sedan Graham parked. If he started closer to our side, we would’ve had to flee immediately. As if it made a difference Graham and I stayed absolutely still. I watched as the man pointed the automatic rifle at the car and walked around the vehicle quickly inspecting it.
“Graham, we should go!” I whispered as if they could possibly hear us from outside.
“Not yet, someone has to be covering him,” he replied.
The armed man, seemingly confident the car was empty, turned around and focused on the second sedan next to it. He threw up a few hand signals, which prompted the movements of a total of four men; two emerged from the same side he came from and two appeared right at the side where we were waiting. They might’ve seen us immediately. I could see their heads but it was Joel who sparked their attention next. Neither Graham nor I could hear anything Joel said but presumably it was more than enough to divert their attentions for the few seconds we needed.
I heard Graham calmly tell me to hold on and as expected, the horsepower and acceleration caused my hands to clench both sides of the seat and pushed my back into the seat with force. Before I could blink, Graham had pressed down on the gas pedal and sat up in time to see the immediate need to turn the car left onto the service road. The sway of the car forced my body again onto the door, which thankfully locked on its own once the car moved forward. The surprised faces of the armed men were in the rearview mirror as Graham yelled out, “They’re gonna shoot!”
I shrieked once I heard them fire and the instantaneous impact of several bullets hit the body of the Cadillac as we sped at more than a safe speed toward the main building a few hundred yards down the road. I looked out of the back window in time to see a few bodies run to the pickup truck that was parked across the way. From my own seat I was able to see the headlights turn on immediately after.
“They’re coming!” I yelled.
“Buckle up,” Graham firmly suggested. His focus switched back and forth from the rear view mirror to the road ahead.
“You first,” I said as I began to help him connect his buckle. I connected my own as we flew past the main building. The road turned slightly to the left, as our speed along with the total darkness yielded nothing but the shapes of tall trees and not much else. Graham adjusted the headlight setting back to normal. We made yet another slight, left turn down the road as I looked back to see the headlights of the truck in the distance. I looked at the speedometer, which read almost seventy briefly before we slowed to make a turn.
“Here comes the gate! Hold on!” Graham said.
I looked forward in time to see us rapidly approaching yet another utility truck blocking the exit and the gate. The gatehouse was maybe one hundred yards away with several bodies coming out, they too had guns; it was easy to tell from their confident strides as the way they readied themselves for our approach. They were quickly stepping out and preparing to aim when Graham slowed down suddenly and veered off of the road into an opening between the trees. We both gasped for air simultaneously as he took to steering through the brush and knee-high grass. The car rocked in response as we ran over various large branches and smaller bushes. The direction we were headed led us nearly to the fence that we were able to see. Had it not been for the need to clear a path for the newly resurrected chain link fence with barbed wire woven through the top, it would’ve been impossible to drive alongside it. The limited visibility from the darkness caused Graham to slow down even more as he crept along the perimeter at times needing to steer out of the way of various debris and large branches.
“We can’t just bust through the fence…the airbags. The road is right on the other side, I can see it,” Graham said.
I knew exactly what he meant about not busting through the gate head on. Sooner or later we would also run into the end of this fence and have no choice but to go through it. I turned around in the seat once again to see if I could see more headlights and was almost overjoyed by their absence until a second later when I saw the rocking motion and flicker of lights between the trees not too far behind. The truck too had most likely veered off at the same time to follow our exact path, winding and turning between the brush and trees.
I could see the anxiety building up in Graham too as he looked into the rearview mirror repeatedly, seeing the same things I did. The pickup was likely much more capable of handling the less than ideal surface this fancy coupe wasn’t designed for because the distance between the two vehicles became shorter and shorter. Our bodies rocked side to side and back and forth as the wheels on the coupe struggled to maintain traction on the uneven surface that was littered with small branches, piles of grass and other debris from the fence construction. It seemed as if at any second we’d get stuck. The sound of the tire rotation was obvious with the ample engine horsepower whenever Graham attempted to accelerate. Instead of increasing speed, the car only rocked more.
“To hell with it, hold on!” Graham warned. He looked left over his shoulder as if he were simply changing lanes in traffic.
He veered the car left, which caused the car to come into contact with the fence a few seconds later. The fence gave easily at first because the car was between two fence poles but more resistance followed right before we heard the snapping of those same metal poles that held up the chain link fence topped with barbed wire. We managed to catch the fence for a split second before rolling over all of it due to it connecting to the other sections. More important was the absence of the airbags, which would’ve created more problems had they been deployed. Graham steered right and quickly met up with the highway that ran parallel to the property a few yards away. He immediately accelerated and the speedometer confirmed the increase to nearly eighty. I was frozen in my seat until we were well over the pavement where I yelled out an exuberant, “Yes, yes, go baby, go!” to Graham who remained focused as we sped down the dark highway.
“Can you see ’em?” Graham asked when I turned around in my seat again to look for the headlights behind us.
“Yeah…” I mumbled as I turned back forward into the seat.
The surrounding darkness was eerie and almost omen-like. I felt unease build up in the pit of my stomach. We were finally out on our way from NGT and my uncle. It was a plan that was officially in the works for several days by at least several individuals, though it was a plan much longer in my mind almost from the moment I arrived. As we sped down the two-lane stretch of road we encountered quite a few abandoned vehicles that thankfully were parked along the shoulder. At our current speed it would be difficult to say whether or not we would have enough stopping distance should the need arise for us to stop suddenly. I wished there was some way I could inform Mia, Dr. Chavan, Ruben and even Laura right now that Graham and I were off of the property and the plan worked in its own haphazard fashion. Though it was premature to declare a victory with the heavy-duty pickup still in our rearview mirror, nevertheless, a major step had been accomplished.
“Sea, we need to swing back around since we’re going in the opposite direction from Princeton,” Graham said as we coincidentally sped past a sign that indicated we were on a county road headed south. “I think we should keep going in this direction,” I replied, remembering my conversation with Davenport. He knew we were headed to the Princeton lab specifically. By Dr. Chavan supplying us with a week’s worth of the antiviral and painkiller it provided us with more than enough leeway to wait a few days if necessary before attempting to head toward the University lab.
“Makes sense to me. We need to get far away from these assholes first and then find someplace to lay low for a few days, maybe try to get in touch with the Princeton lab on our own.” Graham spoke while focusing on driving as safely as we could while at such a high rate of speed. Most of the time my head was turned to look out
of the side mirror and occasionally I glanced off to the side of the road. The darkness failed to provide many details, only that there was an occasional house or business, none of which would be safe enough for us to stop even if we weren’t being pursued. For starters, they were too conveniently located. Second and more importantly, there were a couple bodies moving around. Dead ones had descended upon these locations and for some reason they were rewarded enough to stick around. I looked out of the window in amazement at one of the buildings, a small grocery store as we sped past. There wasn’t any electricity in the form of light but you could see several figures moving around slothfully, nearby an open entrance. It was plain to see the building had been invaded. Anyone hoping to avoid contact with a dead one appeared to be out of luck at this location.
My own adrenaline lowered again, enough for me to notice pains in my shoulder and arms starting to return. In the beginning of the infection these unwelcome pains had a habit of starting where I was bitten in the forearm and radiating through my entire nervous system. Now, it began everywhere all at once. I didn’t need Graham to worry about what was going on with me. I just wanted him to keep us moving so we would hopefully lose the pick-up truck. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and lowered the passenger window to let in fresh air. Of course, this caused Graham to become concerned and to make things worse the air was humid and smelled anything but fresh. There was no rotten stench or the smell of smoke like the television reported earlier. This odor was woodsy, moist and almost thick enough to cut with a butter knife. Clearly in the hour it’d been since we left the room at NGT the humidity had picked up quite a bit. I hit the button to close the window back up and quickly fumbled around the dashboard for the air conditioning.
“Don’t worry about me, just keep driving,” I said before Graham could begin to express concern. He knew me well enough to not take it personally. After all, our safety together was way more important than mine on my own, especially when we were speeding and trying not to get wrapped around a tree. I strained to look back again and although our speed increased at times and decreased at others to make it safely around a turn, the pickup truck was able to maintain a close proximity. The headlights were likely never more than a half a mile from our rearview mirror.
We’d traveled a little more than nine miles from NGT. The landscape was beginning to change as the flatter plains began to give way to occasionally higher landscape. The road remained even but it was easy to see the increase in guardrails because of the increase in rivers and creeks that were to the sides below road we were on. In the daylight and sans, the viral outbreak perhaps it would ordinarily be a scenic drive, beautiful and the road would be flush with avid campers and visitors from other states.
I thought we could continue like this forever, even with the vehicle carrying Davenport and his most skilled and trusted guys not too far behind us. With the laws of mathematics at a constant any decrease in speed meant a decrease in the distance between us. Graham kept his foot on the gas and was cautiously alert; however, there was no chance of avoiding everything. We were cruising along, going about seventy-five around a slight curve, which this lovely Cadillac handled so well. The sign suggested that traffic go no more than forty for the turn but it wouldn’t have made a difference with the decision Graham had to make only a hundred feet away. In his defense, who in their right mind would put an entrance road right there? Better yet, why would someone choose to travel at this time of night? Last I checked, it was close to one o’clock, a time when according to every news source, the dead ones were highly active. Whoever it was in the Buick we hit at seventy-five miles an hour had to have a dire need to be on the road at that time, just like we did.
Maybe we weren’t going seventy-five; perhaps it was only sixty by the time we hit them. It made no difference as Graham had all of two seconds to slow before we made impact with the sedan attempting to make a right turn onto the road and the same lane we were in. In all fairness the speed limit was much lower and thus would’ve ordinarily provided enough time for the driver to determine a safe merge into our lane. We were simply going too fast around the wide curve for any driver to see us coming, even in the dark of night, even with our headlights on. Before I could react, before Graham could fully react, we hit the sedan. I could see the regret in the faces of the driver and the passengers of the car as the two collided. Most likely, the sound of the collision resonated throughout both vehicles because it was temporarily deafening to me.
Both cars crumbled quickly under the impact. The angle at which we struck the sedan as it was rolling onto the road caused the impact to occur right at the front end of the driver’s side of their car and the front passenger side of ours. The airbags deployed, smacking both of us in the face and furthermore, blocking most of our view. Graham, after yelling out an expletive, did his best to steer out of the way afterward with the mangled tire from the passenger side. His over-correction sent us barreling left across the lane going in the opposite direction, past the shoulder and off into the wooded area, down a steep hill. Unfortunately, the airbags had done their job for the day, offering no additional protection from the trees. We hit one that caused us to bounce and hit another tree on the driver’s side. Glass smashed and we continued down the hill at a slower rate yet, still out of control. Yep, sixty is fast when you’re out of control. Graham extended his arm that now had small cuts on it in an attempt to protect me from bouncing around too much. I swear I heard my own neck pop three good times. I grabbed him as well, leaning over the console and we both ended up huddling together, suffering the bumps and hearing the impacts, twists and scraps of the coupe as it sailed down the steep terrain.
Chapter Fifteen
My eyes were shut as tight as possible. I assumed the car finally came to a stop because with the exception of a slight whizzing noise coming from the engine, there was silence. I opened my eyes to see Graham slumped over and more than enough blood on his now deflated airbag to make me uncomfortable. I called his name several times as I pushed him by the shoulders to get him seated straight and facing forward. I struggled somewhat to get out of my seatbelt, cutting myself a few times with the shards of broken glass that were everywhere. Graham was unconscious with some minor cuts on his face that I could easily see, even in the darkness. I quickly checked his pulse, applying my index and middle fingers to his neck. I had to temporarily suspend my own heavy breathing and calm my nerves so I could feel any pulse. This included my own mumblings to him, begging that he’d wake up.
I felt a slight thud against my fingers, which by now had a little of his blood on them. I took another deep breath before I began counting each of those thuds, which would give me some indication into his wellbeing or lack thereof. It was barely palpable but translated into about forty beats per minute, a number I’d feel much better about if he were actually conscious and had not just rolled down hill. Without any hesitation I started talking to him while at the same time feeling his head and face in the darkness for any signs of trauma.
“Graham, I’m here… we’ve stopped. Please, please, it’s okay… I’m here,” I said as I moved my hands over his face, to his chest, shoulders and arms as I gave them a squeeze. My own pains erupted and tears started to flow. This was too much for me, my mind raced and I started gasping for air. I couldn’t do much for him at all sitting in this ravine, which from the looks of the darkness hosted nothing but tall, mature trees. Graham’s chest rose slightly, signaling his breathing however, his eyes remained close. I automatically leaned over and kissed his forehead with enthusiasm while giving his arm a good squeeze. Nothing felt dislocated or broken so I assumed his unconsciousness was a result of the trauma from contact with the trees perhaps. I was leaning over to Graham to cradle him in my arms to soothe him. I checked for any possible swelling and moved my fingers again to monitor his pulse until I could figure out how we’d get to safety when I heard a couple voices yelling from the road above. The voices sounded like that of a man and a woman. I’d be surpri
sed if they were the same folks from the car we just tagged because it wasn’t an easy ordeal they’d just been through.
“Hel-lo! Are you okay down there?” I heard a male voice say. I immediately yelled in response, giving a somewhat faint but high-pitched yell for help. They may or may not have heard my voice beyond the interior of the car because of the distance we were from them. Trying not to get frantic, I knew at any second the pick-up truck would pull up and attempt to overdo any recapture efforts so I focused my efforts into reviving Graham.
Within a few seconds, through the back window my eye caught the flickering lights coming from the top of the hill where we lost control. The lights bounced around and got larger as they followed our same pathway down the ravine, quickly approaching our wrecked vehicle. I said a quick prayer hoping that the lights belonged to anyone left alive in the world except Davenport and his men. It could very well be them and everything would be up. I didn’t have the strength to fight them all on my own. It would mean that everything we just went through was pointless and the only thing that came out of the deal was a serious injury to my Graham. I leaned into Graham and felt the metal of the gun in my jacket press into my stomach. If it was Davenport my only objective for now was protecting Graham in his vulnerable state. As the flashlights came closer I could barely see the figures holding them so I opted to reach for the zip pocket with one hand. I yanked down on the little zipper and dug my hand into my side to grip the handle. I knew the safety was on so with my thumb, I fumbled to release it. The nearest of the two lights dropped down behind the car as a hand hit the trunk to slow whoever it was down now that they had made it. I jumped a little, as a second later another hand hit the trunk. I contemplated whether or not I should start shooting right away or wait until they walked up close enough for me to aim. Davenport and his men had more than enough firepower and ammo––they’d light this coupe up with bullets until they were sure we were done for so I decided to wait and catch at least one of them off guard. For all I knew, they had no clue I was armed either. I kept my hand in my pocket––vowing to pull it out only without the gun in hand to help move Graham and with the gun to give it my best shot at taking the bastards out. Graham’s chest rose slightly again. I gave him a slight squeeze and mumbled, “It’s okay baby, just hold on.”
Affliction Page 22
