She lowered the binoculars. “How is this possible? This isn’t exactly Africa. I remember I saw a herd of buffalo crossing the street in Carmel. Can you believe that?”
“Yeah, I’ve seen wild animals all over. Not just the predators from the mountains coming back down into the cities, but exotic animals like you saw. They must be escaping the zoos and roaming free. There’s a big cat haven up in the mountains, where every single cage and enclosure is now empty, all the animals were set free. It must have taken them awhile to break free of their cages. Or maybe they were lucky and the workers at the zoos freed them as a last-ditch effort before they died.”
Rebel crooked an eyebrow. “If the rhinos are free, what else is free around here?”
Their eyes locked.
“Come on,” Trevor said. “Let’s get going. We still need to cross Fresno. The farm is east of here, at the base of the mountains.”
“Those mountains?” Rebel pointed to the immense line of imposing, dark gray, jagged-topped shapes that dominated the horizon.
“Yeah, you know that’s where Yosemite is, and it’s amazing you can see them in the middle of summer. Without the humans here the air is already clearing. Usually you can only see those mountains in the winter after a heavy rain.”
Rebel gave him a sharp look. “How do you know that? Did you live here before?”
“Yeah, I lived here when I was a kid.”
“Oh, did you have family here still? You know, at the end…”
“No, when the end came none of my family was here.”
Rebel was quiet, hoping he’d tell her more about what he’d done, where he’d lived, what his life had been like before the apocalypse. But he didn’t.
“Follow me tight. It can get sketchy crossing Fresno,” he said, changing the subject. “We’ve cleared a path across the city on the freeway. There’s still the usual amount of abandoned cars, but we’ve moved any that were blocking the road. We can get the RV through. I know because I’ve taken the tour bus through before. So you and I will stay on it and not go into the city itself. It’s a raised freeway that cuts across the entire city. As long as we stay on it, we never have to go into the town. The path was still clear like normal when I went through yesterday afternoon, so hopefully nothing has changed and it will be fine going back. If all goes well we should be at the farm in no more than an hour and a half.”
Rebel nodded and turned to go back to the Mustang.
“Wait.” He grabbed her arm and stopped her.
She looked up at him, surprised. He pulled her close and captured her lips for a kiss, blinding in its intensity.
Trevor finally pulled back, winked at her and walked away.
She watched him retreat, watched his perfect ass moving, cupped in those jeans, and finally snapped out of her sex-infused delirium and headed for the Mustang.
She had her gun, so she was ready if things went weird. She wasn’t familiar with any of these freeways, having never been to this part of California before, but she’d noted which roads they’d used to get where they were going. This way she knew how to get out later.
Rebel turned the air conditioner on high and followed the RV. Her eyes went everywhere, taking in the cityscape surrounding them. Eventually, either side of the freeway filled in with dense industrial neighborhoods and older-looking storefronts and houses. There were flashes of graffiti and derelict buildings with boarded-up windows.
Finally, they curved east onto 180, a raised highway. The freeways from Casa de Fruta to Fresno had been mainly open, with only the occasional car or debris to avoid, but on this freeway across Fresno, the amount of blockage was overwhelming. It reminded her of the pile-ups she’d seen in LA and San Diego, which had the worst leftover perma-jams in any of the cities she’d visited since the end. The freeways there were nearly impassable.
They curved onto the highway, and she noted three lanes in each direction. From this higher vantage point she could see the city spread out going north, south and east as far as the eye could see. Houses and stores, church spires and multi-story buildings, the makings of a city were all there. On the right side of the freeway, the tall office buildings of downtown clustered together.
On the road immediately surrounding them, there were so many abandoned vehicles, Rebel worried the RV wouldn’t fit, but they were still moving. The sudden jam of cars was oppressive, claustrophobic. It was like they were working through a tunnel with no top. They had to slow down to a crawl as they made their way through the winding path created between the cars, but it worked. Once, Rebel turned her head and looked directly into a neighboring car as she passed, only to see a skeleton slumped on the seat, its head turned toward her, the jaw opened like it was smiling.
She squeaked and kept her eyes glued forward.
The RV unexpectedly lumbered to a stop.
Rebel slammed on her break and gripped the steering wheel, white-knuckled and shoulders tense.
Trevor had told her they’d go straight through and reconnect on the other side of town. Her mind flashed to the herd of rhinos she’d seen earlier and their conversation about predators. If something were to happen, this was the worst possible location. There were no escape routes on the raised freeway. Here they were easy pickings. Like fish in a bucket.
The door to the RV squeaked open and Trevor stepped out. Rebel opened her car door and met him halfway. He had his gun out.
“There’s a half-eaten deer carcass blocking the road,” he grated. “It’s a big one, big enough that I can’t plow right over it without tipping the RV over. If I’d been driving the tour bus I could’ve kept going, but not with this RV.”
“Half eaten?” She pulled her Glock out and clicked the safety off.
“Yeah.” Trevor’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed as he glanced around. “I didn’t see who was eating it, but I’m sure they’re coming back. Come on. Walk with me. Stay close. I need your help to pull the carcass aside so we can keep going. Let’s work quick.”
They walked to the front of the RV, and Rebel saw what he was talking about. The deer was shredded but still big enough to create a serious obstacle. The exposed ribs arched, dripping with red meat. Entrails were scattered on the asphalt around the body. Weirdest of all, despite the mangle in the middle, the deer’s head was still perfectly formed, the jaw cracked open at an obtuse angle. It was an unfinished meal with plenty of meat still to eat. Crows fluttered over the stomach area, squawking over the choicest pieces.
An animal howled in the distance and another answered a few car lengths away, long and mournful. A wave a cold fear washed down Rebel’s spine and settled like lead in the pit of her stomach.
“Wolves,” Trevor gritted. “Fuck. Hurry. I’ll drag and you push.”
They holstered their weapons and sprinted to the carcass. The crows scattered in a flutter of black wings and muffled caws. Rebel’s breath came in short, choppy gasps as she strained to lift the front legs and move a few steps forward. Trevor grabbed the hind end and grunted as he dragged the heavy load backward, his thighs bunching as he took powerful steps.
She heard growling behind them. Crap. A bead of sweat trailed down the side of her face. “Hurry, hurry,” she panted.
After they’d gone a few paces Trevor shouted, “That’s good enough. Drop it, Rebel. Run for the car. Run. I’ll cover you.”
She let go of the carcass and turned around. The Mustang, parked behind the RV, was a straight shot in front of her. She took off, running. Thank God she’d changed into tennis shoes and shorts before she’d left Casa de Fruta that morning.
Her breaths echoed like drum beats in her head. Her feet thumped against the pavement. Run, run, run, her brain chanted.
A wolf jumped on the hood of a car to her right, a clang of metal and scratching of claws. She squealed. Dear God, it was huge. Its snarling face and fangs seemed mere inches away. She swerved and kept running for the car, the length of the RV to the left of her.
If she didn’t make it inside
the Mustang, she was dead. The pack had killed that deer; it could easily kill her, too.
A gunshot rang out behind her, and another and another.
Suddenly, the car was there. Her hand slipped on the handle, wasting precious seconds. Then she was sitting inside, the door slamming beside her with a satisfying thud. The windows were all up. She immediately scanned the area, searching for Trevor through the car window. The RV ground to life in front of her. Rebel exhaled the breath she’d been holding and slumped on the steering wheel with gratitude.
The RV jerked forward. She sat up, keyed the ignition and started the car forward and followed.
“Thank you, God,” she muttered as she ground into first gear.
The RV swayed to the left and swiped another car as Trevor tried to avoid the carcass and escape. Through the rearview mirror she saw the pack gathering behind them as they left. White wolves, gray, and one black, they were all swarming around the deer carcass, snarling, fighting one another.
The humans, their competition for food, were gone and already forgotten.
“Rebel.” The walkie-talkie squawked in the seat next to her.
She scooped it up and pressed the button, “Yeah, Trevor. I’m here.”
“Rebel…”
Her chest constricted. So much in that one word. She pressed the button and breathed, “Honey… It’s okay. We’re okay.”
“You could’ve been killed,” he answered.
“You could’ve been killed, too.”
“I’m pissed off at myself.”
“Why?”
“I made the decision to have you run for the Mustang. I should’ve told you to run to the RV. Fuck the Mustang.”
“What? I ran for the Mustang because it made sense, Trevor. I was driving the Mustang. You know we couldn’t leave it there. If we left the car behind, it would be blocking the road later when you guys tried to come back through.”
“Fuck that. Nothing is more important than your safety.”
Heat pricked at her nose. She took a deep breath and pressed the walkie-talkie against her chest.
“Rebel?”
“I’m here…I’m here.”
“When I saw that wolf jump on that car…” He cursed and it sounded like he pounded his fist against something. “I should’ve told you to run to the RV. It was closer. That fucked up decision could’ve been the difference between life and death. You were amazing, Rebel.”
“You were, too,” she said softly. “You shot those wolves. You saved me.”
“We’re half-way there. I can see you, behind me.”
“I’m right here.”
Chapter Five
The moment they made it out of Fresno and entered open land once again, Rebel felt the tension leave her body. Her grip on the steering wheel loosened. She was able to breathe easier with the death and destruction in her wake.
She followed Trevor tight through the rest of the freeway across the city and back into the countryside on the other side. They’d continued to pass the usual parade of wrecked, abandoned cars and decomposing bodies. Bodies that were liquefied, others that were nothing but bones and clothing, all now in advanced decay. It was the same the whole route. Car after car. Body after body. But, no more predators. And freakishly quiet. Nothing but the sound of their engines, and wheels crunching debris.
The freeway finally morphed into a road cutting east through the suburbs, and they continued heading closer across flat land to that enormous mountain range Rebel could see in the distance spanning north to south as far as the eye could see.
Yesterday morning she’d been taking in her last longing looks at the rugged edge of the Pacific Ocean at Point Joe on Pebble Beach Golf Course. Now she was on the other side of the state, looking up at one of the most imposing mountain ranges in the world. Yosemite was up there. Half Dome and El Capitan. And she knew if she drove for hours south she’d still be in the same state and hit Death Valley. Driving north would eventually bring forests of giant redwood trees.
California was pretty amazing. Still, even without the humans.
Pretty damn amazing.
Actually, a lot of things on the planet probably were happy the humans were gone. Natural habitats and animals were thriving because the humans weren’t there to hunt, crowd or dig things away. The towns and cities were already looking overgrown. The predators were already roaming the streets again.
Rebel turned her head and looked in her rearview mirror at the retreating city. Almost all the humans might be gone, but they weren’t done with Mother Nature yet. The humans had left a ticking time bomb—all those nuclear power plants.
She shivered. Please God, let that all work out. Please.
“Almost there.” Trevor’s voice crackled over the walkie-talkie.
A little over an hour after their terrifying run-in with the wolves, the RV turned right and lumbered into the long driveway of a farm on the edge of the San Joaquin Valley.
Rebel let out a sigh of relief, feeling like they’d reached shelter just before a storm.
Across the street from the driveway that lead into the farm, Rebel noted there was a granite boulder, just sitting there. It was taller than a man and lounging inside a grove of orange trees, like a toy left behind by a giant of old.
Weird.
The scenery here was nothing like the flat, fall-colored farmland they’d passed as they’d left Casa de Fruta and the coastal mountains and drove into the flat plain of the Central Valley. It was greener here next to the hills on the eastern edge of the valley, with more orchards and vineyards.
At the end of the driveway she could see a two-story yellow Victorian farmhouse and a red barn. There was also an enormous gray metal garage with three roll-up doors.
The farm sat on a magical grid of fruit trees and linear-lined grapevines, next to rounding hills that she knew eventually graduated into hilly oak trees and then rose up into a snow-topped mountain range.
It was peaceful here. She immediately liked the vibe. It was quiet and separate. Like it had always been that way. A person could move in and almost forget that there was no outside world anymore. Forget everyone was gone. Forget the cities were empty and slowly being reclaimed by nature.
I could pretend I chose to live out here in the country like this—not forced to live here because Ruyigi Ebola destroyed the world and I’m desperately trying to survive the aftermath.
She and Justin had moved into the mansion on 17-Mile Drive for that exact reason. It was sequestered from the cities, on the coast, as far from the corpses as possible. Well, not that far, it turned out. 17-Mile Drive was a popular place to live. Every square inch that could be used to build a house on was being used. But the house they’d moved into was smartly built in such a way as to give every room a Pacific Ocean vista and make it seem like they were out there by themselves. And they had access to supplies in Monterey and Carmel…
But she could see why these people had moved out here. It made sense. They’d be more self-sufficient, an island unto themselves. Growing their own food, having their own water and power. And, with more people in their group to share the load, there would be less need for any one person to go into the cities, amongst the piles of bodies, and creepy, empty buildings to scrounge for supplies. They could share those duties.
God, that would be wonderful.
Rebel shook her head, looking at the farm, at the yellow and white Victorian main house, the enormous gray metal garage, the red barn, the fences, the horses… Don’t get attached. This is a visit. She was here to make friends, meet new people, learn new tricks for survival, and then she’d go back from whence she came and try out those new tricks elsewhere.
And keep in touch.
That was the plan she and Justin had formulated, and she was sticking to it. They had no idea about the dynamics of this new group. There could be a million different reasons why these people would get on her very last nerve and why she would get on theirs. Just because they’d all survived didn’t
mean they’d get along by default. It was best to plan for a visit rather than a long-term move-in situation. That way they could all get to know each other slowly and the honeymoon phase wouldn’t have ended by the time she and Justin left, and everyone would be happier that way.
But first she would need to help Justin recover and then convince him after he woke up and felt better and got to know everyone that their original plan was still the best. After seeing all this, he might want to stay, so she was going to have to do some serious convincing. And also…she hadn’t told Justin about the baby yet… He’d have to realize that changed everything.
Trevor parked the RV in front of the garage, next to what had to be Charlie Hanson’s tour bus. She snorted. She hadn’t seen it in ages, but she’d recognize that distinctive all-over black matte finish anywhere. She pulled the Mustang up behind the RV and cut the engine.
Rebel sat there for a moment then picked up the walkie-talkie and pressed the button. “Trevor?”
No answer.
Shoot. She hadn’t thought to talk with him ahead of time about what to do when they met the other survivors. Darn, she always liked having a plan for that with men, a plan for keeping their relationship private. It made everything go way smoother.
Rebel turned her head and noticed a man and a woman step off the wraparound porch of the two-story Victorian farmhouse. Her heart beat crazily in her chest and her knees felt rubbery. She nearly swooned.
People. People!
Rebel stepped out of the car, her palms sweaty. She paused and glanced around, waiting for Trevor to step out of the RV and come and make introductions. She burned with curiosity. She’d lived the last two months like a girl banished to a nunnery, walking down silent hallways, introspective and solemn, depressed but living in quiet splendor. Now she was about to meet a group of real people.
Alive. Vibrant and healthy.
It had been so long.
The man was huge, muscular and Hispanic with bronze skin and short black hair. There was a military air about him, the way he carried himself, the hard face and assessing eyes. Rebel noted he was handsome and buffed-out, like he could’ve starred in an action movie or worked as a stunt double.
Kill For You Page 6
