I was just closing my eyes when he suddenly propped himself up on an elbow, grunting with pain at the action, and leaned over me.
I looked up at him, frowning.
When he leaned down to kiss me softly on the lips, then whispered, “That’s for saving my life,” I didn’t stop him.
Chapter 28
In the morning, I pulled myself up out of a not-very-restful sleep and watched the sun finally rising over the horizon. We’d managed to make it through the rest of the night, and after what had happened, that felt like a fairly large victory. My first thought was of Will, and I turned over to stare at him, worried that maybe he’d faded away during the night or something.
His eyes were still closed, his long lashes resting against his cheeks, and my heart jumped a bit, telling me that something had gone wrong. He’d had internal damage that I hadn’t known about. He’d bled to death from what had looked like a mere scratch. But then I saw that those cheeks were tinted pink with the flush of sleep and life.
He was still alive. He’d made it.
I got out of bed slowly, doing my best not to disturb him, grabbed a bottle of orange juice from our bag, and started walking the perimeter of the camp. I passed through the circle where we’d slept and paused to turn off the flashlights that Sally and Jameson had left, then walked toward the highway. It was all quiet out there—just as it had been when we went to sleep last night. No sign of Sally or Jameson. Or anyone else.
Then again, just because I didn’t see or hear anything, it didn’t necessarily mean we were alone. I’d seen some of the most horrible things I could imagine over the last couple of days, and I had to admit to myself that I was starting to deeply distrust people, at large. Granted, I hadn’t been around many of them lately, but the ones I had been around hadn’t exactly been the most trustworthy.
Sally. Bruce. Jameson.
The guy in Mason. The person in the mall. Whoever they had been, one of them had been literally eating the people of his town and the other had locked innocent people out of their only chance at shelter in the middle of an attack.
My own uncle, who had kidnapped me and forced me into a bunker, where he’d evidently meant to keep me for the rest of my life.
This disaster had done something to people, and it wasn’t pretty. It definitely wasn’t encouraging. And it brought up a question that I’d been avoiding up to this point. Something that I’d brushed up against, but had been trying like hell not to actually look at.
Now, as I gazed out across a landscape of deserted cars, I realized I didn’t have a choice.
Because if this was what humanity did when disaster struck, if this was how we started treating others, then what was I doing trying to save the human race? Why was I bothering with trying to bring back civilization? So we could go right on destroying each other? Using the people under us to push ourselves up, regardless of what it did to others?
All of the signs lately pointed right to the idea that humanity wasn’t actually worth saving. Which was really, really depressing.
These thoughts cut right off when I got to the edge of the circle and what had been our bike. The thing was completely trashed. I didn’t know what Sally had done to it, but it was absolutely wrecked, and both the tires were completely flat.
Yeah, I’d heard the noise of it when they'd left and thought they’d probably done something that would mean I couldn’t use the bike again. And I’d known at the time that I wouldn’t have been able to anyhow, since I’d thought Will was dead and I didn’t know how to hotwire the thing myself. But it was a different thing to have come to the conclusion last night that I’d be continuing on foot, and alone, than it was to deal with it right now.
Last night, I’d been okay with the conclusion. But that was before I’d discovered that Will—and his hotwiring skills—were still in the picture.
That said, though, there was no way he would have been able to manage the bike in his condition. If his ribs had hurt last night, they were going to hurt a whole lot more today, and even I knew that keeping a bike upright took a fair bit of strength. He wouldn’t have been able to do it, and I didn’t know how.
“Looks like we’re going to have to find another ride, eh?” the man in question suddenly asked from behind me.
I jumped like I’d just been caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to, and then chuckled.
“I was just thinking the exact same thing. Are you good to walk?”
“Better than I would have been to drive that thing,” he answered. “Let’s get packed up and get on the road before it gets too hot out.”
I wasn’t that surprised when we came across a group of cars almost immediately. I was surprised that they didn’t have dead bodies in them—and that they still had the keys dangling in the ignition.
“People must have heard what was happening on the radio and figured they’d be better off on foot,” I said, mystified. “Though that doesn’t make any sense. You tell me there’s an attack happening out there and I’m going to roll up the windows, lock the doors, and try to outdrive it.”
“You and me both,” he muttered. “Lucky that they left keys, though I guess they figured that they wouldn’t need them wherever they were going. Or maybe they were just too scared to remember them. Can you drive, though? Because I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”
And at that, I had to pause. Because the short answer was yes. I’d taken Driver’s Ed, just like every other sixteen-year-old in the country.
I’d just never taken it any further than that. My foster parents hadn’t been planning to get me a car—or even let me use theirs—so I’d figured it wasn’t worth my time to actually get my license. And after that…
Well, hermit hackers don’t exactly do a lot of driving. When I’d needed to get around, I’d taken the bus.
Those practice sessions had been around a decade ago. I’d layered a whole lot of knowledge over that experience.
“I can drive,” I said slowly. “Maybe not well. But I don’t think I’ll kill us.”
Will gave me a long look and shook his head.
“You’re the picture of confidence. In that case…” He gestured around us, taking in the dozen-or-so cars in this group, where everyone seemed to have for some reason stopped together. “Take your pick.”
I glanced around, considered the options, and then picked the bright red car in the group, a little sports car that looked like it was built for making sharp turns.
Then, I grinned at him.
“I hope you’re not afraid of a little speed.”
Chapter 29
We roared down the freeway, the engine of the little car proving that it certainly wasn’t afraid of speed, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the sheer joy of it. The car was a convertible, so of course we’d put the top down, just for the hell of it, and the wind rushed by, whipping through our hair and keeping us both quiet but for our laughter.
It was a moment of freedom in a world that hadn’t given me much of that lately, and I was enjoying every second of it. I was pretending that I was flying and that nothing had gone wrong in the world and that I hadn’t seen too many dead people lately—or seen my friends shot, or possibly killed my uncle. I was pretending that no one was after us and that everything was fine.
In short, I was doing my level best not to think about anything as we flew across the pavement. And when your mind is as active as mine is, that was incredibly difficult. It was also completely worth the effort. Because I felt happy and carefree for the first time in what felt like years.
The signs directing us toward Somersville flashed by intermittently, and every time I saw one, I felt like we might be one step closer to being safe.
My earlier fear of humanity itself had disappeared with the speed of the car and, despite my fears of driving, I’d found that I was actually… relatively good at it. Once I got the basic physics of how hard to push on the gas pedal—and the break—I’d taken right off, loving how much control I ha
d over the thing.
It turned out that real-life driving wasn’t all that different from playing video games, after all. It was a little rougher and there was more at stake, yeah, but there hadn’t been many cars on this particular highway when the attack had happened, so I didn’t have to steer all that much.
Which meant I was free to jam on the gas pedal and take us flying forward, the speed and power making it feel for just a little while like it was all going to be okay.
For that hour, it was just Will and me and the road and the car, and we flew through the world like we didn’t have a care.
Then, we saw something in the road. Something big and very dark. Something that was actually pulled across the road, like it was blocking it.
“Slow down!” Will shouted.
I wanted to tell him that I knew well enough that I needed to slow down, since there was something actually blocking the freeway, but I kept it to myself. And instead of slowing down, I actually stopped long before we got to whatever it was. Because I wanted to take a good look at what was going on up there before we got any closer.
I’d always been sort of cautious. But after the last week, I was getting downright paranoid. I wanted to have an extremely good idea of what we were looking at before we got anywhere close to it. Because right now, we were still far enough away that we could turn around and run if we needed to.
Like, if there was a group of zombies up ahead or something. Because I still hadn’t put the idea of this being the zombie apocalypse out of my head. No, I didn’t think the VXM actually left you alive, but was being a zombie actually the same as being alive? And didn’t all the books and movies say that the zombie apocalypse was how we were all going to go out? It made a certain sort of sense. If you looked at it sideways.
But they weren’t zombies. Or if they were, they were zombies with…
“Tanks,” I said bluntly. “Three of them. Obviously a roadblock. They’re trying to keep traffic from getting to Somersville. Or keep it from getting out of Ashland.”
“Which means, I would guess, that we’re right about Somersville still having law enforcement. And government,” Will said quietly.
That was true. But tanks didn’t necessarily mean the good version of government. They didn’t mean the ‘welcome to town, we’re so glad to have you here’ version of government.
They meant the military was out in full force. And though I wouldn’t have looked twice if we were trying to get onto a military base and came up against a row of tanks, seeing them on a public freeway, after the attack that had just happened, gave me pause. They didn’t belong here, and my gut was absolutely screaming that they meant danger.
“What do we think?” I asked him quietly. “Do we trust them? Or do we turn around and run?”
Will was silent for a moment, and when he started speaking, I felt like I already knew what he was going to say.
“If they’ve got tanks, they’ve probably also got vehicles that could outrun us. And if we run, we look guilty.”
“Both good points,” I answered. “I’m not sure they’re good enough, though…"
Suddenly, a voice boomed out from in front of us, interrupting our conversation.
“We’ve got you in our sights,” it said in that stereotypically military way. A totally faceless—totally scary—voice. “Come closer so we can talk.”
“‘Come closer so we can talk,’” I said, dropping my own voice so I could mimic his. “Like it’s just that easy.”
I glanced at Will—and saw that he had a red laser beam dot on his chest. I gasped and jerked, because that’s what you do when you see the guy who’s sitting next to you being targeted by a laser that’s probably attached to sniper rifle, and he glanced down, trying to figure out what I was looking at. The moment he saw it, he swore. Then, he looked at my chest and shook his head.
“You’ve got one, too,” he said quietly. “They’ve got us both marked. We turn around and run, kid, we’re dead.”
I looked down, though I really didn’t want to, and saw the bright red circle on my chest. Terrific. Out of the frying pan and into the fucking fire.
“Which leaves us with only one choice,” I finished. “I hate when I only have one choice.”
I started to roll forward, though, knowing that we really didn’t have any choice in the matter. If they had guns on us, it meant we had to cooperate. If we didn’t, I knew we were both dead. And I didn’t know about Will, but I just wasn’t ready to die yet.
As we rolled forward, I let my mind move feverishly through the options. Through all the ideas of who these guys might be, and what side they might be playing for. They had US markings on the tanks, and theoretically, that made them the good guys.
Theoretically.
Maybe the government had just declared martial law, and they had military groups out there checking the roads for survivors. Maybe roadblocks like this were just meant to find and capture thieves like Sally and Bruce. Maybe they were looking for people like us, who had somehow survived and wanted to help get society back on track. Maybe everything would be okay. Maybe I would tell them who we were and what had happened, and then tell them what I knew, and they’d take me right to their leader—who would take me right to the city's safe bunker, where I could get my hands on a computer and start helping. Maybe I’d get to work right away at helping civilization recover.
Or maybe it wouldn’t go that way at all. Maybe they were working for someone else entirely, or were just looking for anyone who had survived so they could put them into some terrible form of experimentation, and we were driving straight toward our death. Maybe they’d hear my name—and Will’s—and immediately mark us for the criminals we were and take us right to jail.
Or worse.
Unfortunately, there was only one way to tell, and that was to keep moving forward. Just like I’d done yesterday, and just like I’d done the day before. And, I hoped, just like I’d be doing again tomorrow.
I paused on the last thought and amended it. Hopefully, I’d be moving forward tomorrow to any place other than a torture cell or jail. Hopefully, Will and I would still be together. And alive.
So I hit the gas, moving us toward whatever fate had in store.
TO BE CONTINUED
KEEP READING FOR A PREVIEW OF THE NEXT BOOK IN THIS SERIES
Final Ride
Chapter 1
I came to a screeching halt right in front of the row of tanks, my chest heaving with the effort it had taken to force myself to keep driving right toward them, my hands shaking with the idea that they were right freaking there.
The tanks were manned by military guys wearing camo that looked like what US troops always wore, with the kinds of guns that US troops would carry. On the surface, they looked exactly like they should have looked if they were who they said they were.
My paranoia, though—that sense that had become stronger and stronger the longer I lived in the underground world of hackers and secret deals—was absolutely screaming at me about all of those things. Screaming that just because something walks like a duck and talks like a duck… doesn’t mean it’s actually a fucking duck.
Sometimes it’s a wolf dressed up like a duck, who is trying to convince you that it’s just some hapless fowl, and will bite your fucking head off the moment you relax.
“Are we really doing this?” I breathed to Will, who was sitting absolutely still beside me in the car, his eyes on the row of tanks ahead of us.
I didn’t think he was any more excited about this than I was, honestly. The guy might have had a good heart, but he was a crook, through and through, and that meant that he had to be feeling just as nervous about facing any sort of law enforcement as I was.
Which was, you know, something we maybe should have thought about before we went off seeking law enforcement, in the hopes that they might be able to tell us what the hell to do in a world that had suddenly gone crazy. A world where ninety percent of the people we came across were actually dead, struc
k by a biochemical weapon that had caused their bodies to seize up until they literally stopped working.
A world where the power had gone off. Where the internet no longer existed. Where chaos reigned, and everything we had once depended on to help us get through that thing called life seemed to have vanished into thin air, contaminated by VXM powder.
“Well, let’s consider our options,” Will said quietly. “We’re on the run from a murderous gang who might be behind us at this very moment, coming after us again. They’ve already shot me once, so we know they’re not going to hesitate to do it again if they find us. We have no friends. We have no idea what’s going on in the rest of the world—or if the rest of the world even still exists the way we once knew it. We don’t know whether there’s a central government left in this country or not, and we definitely don’t know whether there’s another attack coming. If that attack happens, we don’t have any place lined up to hide from it. You said you wanted to find something that looked like law enforcement so we could get some real information. That’s law enforcement right in front of us.”
I blew out a slow breath. “One, that gang probably isn’t coming after us, now that they think you’re dead and that there was another attack,” I reminded him quickly. “Two, I don’t see how having any friends is of any importance here. Three… I mean, you’re right about not having any idea of what’s going on in the rest of the world and needing to find out. Four… yeah, theoretically, finding law enforcement or someone with connections to the government should give us the answers we need. But five, I’m not entirely sure that those people in front of us actually qualify as law enforcement. My 'those-people-aren’t-who-they-say-they-are' alarm is screaming right now. And that alarm isn't usually wrong.”
Survival of The Fittest | Book 2 | Shallow Graves Page 14
