by Chelsea Luna
The van collided against the horde with an ear-shattering crash. The airbags detonated and the horn blared.
And continued to blare.
Holy crap.
Nicky crouched on his branch to get a better view inside the van. The zombies shuffled away from the tree and moved to the van.
“She really is crazy,” Lindsay mumbled.
~ ~ ~
Pain radiated through Adam’s neck and shoulders. The airbag had deployed and smashed against his face. He popped the bag with his knife.
“Rach?” Adam glanced behind him. “You guys okay?”
Finn and Cage nodded.
“We have company.” Cage unlocked his seat belt and pulled out his tire iron.
A swarm of zombies surrounded the van. Cold blue eyes filled the windows. Hands smashed against the glass.
Adam crawled over the console. “Rachel?”
Her airbag had deflated and she was slumped over the steering wheel.
“Rachel?”
~ ~ ~
“Climb down,” Nicky said.
“Are you crazy?” Lindsay’s eyes widened. “They’re right there!”
“No, he’s right,” Dean said. “The zombies have the van surrounded. It’s our best chance. They’re distracted.”
The horn blared. More zombies congregated around the blue van. Was Rachel okay? Were they injured? Why was the horn still honking?’
Nicky’s foot searched blindly for the branch below. “Let’s go!”
The zombies converged on the van like rabid dogs, clawing against the glass.
Nicky descended the tree hand over hand until he leaped quietly to the grass. He peeked around the trunk, but none of the zombies had noticed him. He helped Monica and Lindsay down and, once Dean was on the ground, Dean lifted Monica onto his back.
A zombie stepped out from behind the tree and snarled.
Nicky snatched Lindsay’s hand. “Time to go!”
~ ~ ~
Rachel had a pulse, but she was knocked out. A gash sliced across her forehead, but she seemed to be okay. Adam lifted Rachel from the driver’s seat. “Cage, help me. We have to move this van before they smash through the windows.”
Adam handed Rachel’s limp body to Cage.
“Look!” Finn sat forward. “They’re sneaking down the tree!”
The van rocked as the zombies pushed against the frame. Hands smashed against the hood, the trunk and windows. They converged around the van, blocking out the moonlight.
Adam slid into the driver’s seat. “Please, start.” He twisted the key and the van sputtered to life.
“Yeah!” Finn cheered.
“Cage, unlock the door—get ready to help them inside.” Adam threw the van in reverse and spun around.
Cage carried Rachel to the back bench and laid her out.
Adam rolled his window down as soon as they cleared the mass of zombies. “Get inside!”
Lindsay waved her arms. Dean and Nicky supported a hobbling Monica. Adam sped toward them. Cage opened the side door and they scrambled inside.
“Go! Go!” Nicky slammed the door shut.
Adam shifted gears and they drove back onto the small road leading out of the tiny tourist trap.
“What happened to Warrior Princess? Is she okay?” Nicky leaned over Rachel’s unconscious body. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead.
Adam glanced in the rearview mirror. “She’s okay. She knocked herself out.”
“When she was saving your lives,” Finn added.
Lindsay moved past Nicky and kneeled beside the bench where Rachel lay. She took Rachel’s limp hand and squeezed it. “Thank you,” Lindsay whispered and kissed Rachel lightly on the forehead.
“What in the world?” Nicky said.
Lindsay pointed her finger at him. “Shut up, Nicky. And if you ever tell Rachel about this, I’ll kill you.”
Chapter Thirteen
Adam twisted the dial on the radio.
It was out of habit. They hadn’t heard anything but static in days. Rachel closed her eyes in the passenger seat beside him. She had a gash on her forehead and a headache, but she was all right.
She’d single-handedly saved the others. It was brash and impulsive and reckless, but if she hadn’t rammed that horde, then Nicky and the others wouldn’t have escaped that tree.
Adam shook his head—Rachel Cole was amazing.
Thankfully, the next few hours of driving passed without any event. Adam feared they’d intercept the horde on the highway, but there were no signs of them or their path of destruction. There wasn’t much of anything on Highway 76.
The others were finally relaxing. Nicky taught Finn how to play poker on the back bench. Dean and Monica were on the floor between the middle captain seats. Monica was sleeping—she passed out about half an hour after they’d rescued her. Adam was glad the siblings had joined them on their journey to Vegas. They could use all the help they could get. Adam gave up on the radio and settled on taking in the mountain scenery.
The spectacular view changed as they neared Denver. At first, Adam suspected it was a thunderstorm off in the distance, but the closer they came to Denver, the more he was able to see that it was actually smoke. Adam pulled the van off to the side of the elevated highway.
The Mile-High City was in flames. A blazing, raging inferno. Thick plumes of black smoke hovered over the city like a mushroom cloud.
“My God, is that Denver?” Lindsay asked.
The infection that began over a week ago in Chicago had already ravished Denver. Was Vegas still standing? And if it was, how long would it last?
“The whole country is destroyed,” Nicky said.
Rachel massaged her forehead. “Let’s go. I don’t want to watch Denver disintegrate.”
Adam couldn’t look away. It was a bad omen screaming out a warning. Maybe they weren’t going to make it to Vegas.
Nicky clapped him on the shoulder. “Dude, let’s go before I die of smoke inhalation. Switch seats with me. I’ll drive.”
Adam took the back bench with Rachel, but he couldn’t shake the dread that had overcome him. Rachel cuddled beside him and he concentrated on her and not the fear of impending doom. He wanted to think of something pleasant so he replayed the night he spent with Rachel in the farmhouse. Visions of her lips on his calmed his racing heart.
Nicky drove until they stopped for the night. They pulled off the deserted highway and slept inside the van. Adam reclined on the back bench with Rachel, but he couldn’t sleep. Denver burning had given him nightmares about a horde of zombiefied Selenas chasing him through an American wasteland.
Rachel drove the next day. Adam watched the scenery change to a greener, thicker forest that lined both sides of the abandoned highway. The van decelerated and, before Adam could look to see why, he felt everyone in the van tense.
“What in the hell is that?” Nicky asked.
Lindsay groaned.
Rachel slowed the van to a stop. “A road block.”
Chapter Fourteen
Rachel stopped a few feet from the blockage. This roadblock was unlike the others. It wasn’t the result of some horrific car accident—there wasn’t enough traffic to create such a pileup. This was man-made—trucks, cars, picnic tables and blue porta-potties blocked the highway. Driving around was impossible because the road ran through a mountain pass and the junk was piled all the way to both mountains. Someone didn’t want them to drive through.
“What do you think?” Rachel asked Adam.
“We have to go the other way. Duh.” Lindsay pointed behind them to an exit ramp that led to a state road. Thick evergreen trees lined the road like some wicked fairy-tale forest.
Adam frowned. “I don’t like it.”
“Me, either,” Cage said. “It seems like a setup.”
“We don’t have a choice.” Nicky popped a pink bubble. “We can’t go around. Maybe whatever is behind that load of crap is dangerous. Someone could be warning us to s
tay away. I’m with Linds, let’s take the state road.”
“We’ve gone too far to turn around,” Finn said.
Rachel didn’t like it, but what could they do? She did a U-turn and drove up the on-ramp to the lonely state street.
The trees surrounding the road grew thicker, like they were driving through a tunnel. Rachel’s ears popped as the road inclined up the mountain. She kept the van at forty miles per hour—it felt like something was going to jump out of the forest.
“Are you sure we’re headed in the right direction?” Adam asked.
Nicky held a coffee-stained atlas on his lap. “Yeah, dude, take this road for twenty miles and then we’ll be back on the highway. Small detour. No harm, no foul.” He glanced at Dean. “How’s Monica?”
Dean shrugged. “Tired, I guess. I hope she didn’t break her ankle.”
Nicky frowned. “I hope not, too.”
The road narrowed as they rounded a cliff with a steep drop-off. A sea of evergreens filled the void below.
“Holy crap,” Finn said. “That’s a long way down.”
Rachel smiled. Finn sounded more like Nicky everyday. Her foot hovered over the brakes as the road reached its peak before slowly descending to non-ear-popping elevations. The road hugged the mountain and her sweaty palms drenched the steering wheel.
Up ahead, debris littered the road from the mountain to the guardrail. Rachel slowed. It wasn’t a blockage, just a mess of trash and leaves.
Adam gripped the dashboard. “Careful—”
The tires exploded.
The van jolted and the steering wheel shook under Rachel’s hands. The deflated tires spun out of control.
“Brakes!” Nicky yelled.
“Pump them.” Adam leaned over the consol. “Turn the wheel in—stay away from that guardrail.”
Adam’s solid hands clamped over Rachel’s fingers. He turned the wheel and the fishtailing van skidded to a halt.
Rachel waited for her heartbeat to slow. “Is everyone okay?”
A chorus of mumbled assents filled the van followed by a string of hushed curses from Nicky. They climbed out of the van.
“What happened?” Cage asked.
Nicky whistled. “Warrior Princess blew out all four tires.”
“If I did that, everyone would be screaming at me,” Lindsay whined.
Rachel kicked the deflated back tire. “I wasn’t going that fast. How could all the tires blow at the same time?”
“On purpose,” Adam said.
“What?” A glean of sweat covered Monica’s forehead and upper lip.
Adam swept aside the trash and revealed a strip of tire spikes. The spikes were small, but the steel was constructed in sharp, jagged points.
Rachel’s back teeth ground together. “Someone put that there?”
“It would seem so,” Adam said.
“Why would someone do that?” Monica asked.
“Who would do that?” Rachel glanced over the guardrail—there was nothing but evergreens in the drop-off below. It seemed so…isolated.
“Whoever did it didn’t want us coming this way,” Adam said.
“Sorry for them.” Nicky bent down beside Adam. “It’s the only way through. Let’s move it so someone else doesn’t blow a tire.”
“Can’t,” Adam said.
“Why not?” A cold chill crawled up Rachel’s back.
“It’s permanent.”
“Permanent?” Lindsay scoffed.
Nicky and Dean squatted beside the tire strip. Nicky jerked the spikes, but they wouldn’t budge. “What in the hell?”
“Cement,” Adam said.
“Holy shit,” Dean mumbled. “Someone cemented this to the street?”
“It goes from the rock to the guardrail.” Rachel heard the amazement in her voice. “We’re stuck,” she whispered.
“Oh, my God.” Lindsay flapped her hands in the air. “We’re stuck? Here? What if that horde comes?”
“We have two options,” Adam said. “Find an alternate route, or we can keep going forward.”
“On foot?” Rachel asked.
“Yeah.”
Cage sat on the guardrail and cursed. “This situation is nose-diving.”
“How far was the highway, Nicky?” Rachel tied her hair on top of her head.
“Few miles,” Nicky answered.
“I don’t like either option,” Lindsay said. “Whoever laid that trap is around here. What if they come looking for us?”
“Maybe it’s for protection.” Rachel’s words sounded hollow in her own ears.
“What’s the vote?”
Both choices were bad and everyone knew it. It came down to picking the lesser of two evils. Rachel sucked in a thin gulp of air. “I say we go forward. I don’t want to waste time. We’ll find another car for Nicky to hot-wire.”
“We don’t know what’s out there,” Lindsay said.
“We don’t know what’s anywhere,” Cage countered.
After a small debate, they continued on foot down the mountain and through the dense forest in search of another car for Nicky to hot-wire.
“This air is giving me a headache.” Nicky pounded his fist against his chest. “It feels like I smoke a pack a day.”
Dean supported Monica as they descended the mountain. Her face was screwed up in pain.
“I can take a look at your ankle when we stop,” Rachel said to Monica. “Or try to make a splint for you.”
“I’m okay,” Monica mumbled.
“You don’t look so good.”
“It hurts.”
“Maybe we can find some pain-killers,” Rachel said. “Adam, look—Fish Lake National Forest.”
“Huh?” Lindsay made a face.
Rachel pointed to the sign ahead. “We’re entering Fish Lake National Forest.”
“Whoopee,” Lindsay muttered.
“I see campers,” Finn pointed.
“Good eye, Finn,” Nicky said.
Rachel peered ahead. Ten to fifteen RV campers were parked next to a crystal-clear lake.
“It’s a settlement,” Cage said.
“Good,” Monica said. “Maybe they can help us.”
“How do we know they want company?” Rachel asked.
“But we’re cool.” Nicky burped. “Obviously.”
“They look harmless,” Lindsay said.
Rachel couldn’t argue. Thirty or so people wandered around the campgrounds. They looked like run-of-the-mill RVers—potbelly, middle-aged, receding hair, middle America folk.
“Maybe someone has an extra SUV they can loan us,” Monica said. “That would be nice.”
“Maybe,” Adam said quietly.
Rachel tried to make eye contact with Adam, but he was focused on the RVers. The campers had noticed their presence and gathered in a semicircle near the road. They were dressed in various forms of khakis and T-shirts—some even wore socks with sandals.
“Everyone stay quiet,” Adam said.
“These people aren’t a threat,” Dean mumbled.
A middle-aged balding man wearing a Star Wars T-shirt stepped forward with a friendly smile. “Hello, travelers. I’m Tom.”
“My name is Adam and these are my friends. We’re on our way to Vegas.”
“Camp Freedom Two.”
“Yes.” Adam crossed his arms over his chest. His face betrayed no emotion, but Rachel knew his guard was up. Adam was friendly to everyone and, right now, he wasn’t.
The campers smiled and seemed in high spirits. I mean, come on, it was the zombie apocalypse. There wasn’t much to smile about.
“Do you know anything about that tire strip up on the mountain?” Nicky asked.
“Set it myself.” Tom’s friendly eyes slid over the eight of them.
Rachel watched Tom closely. He looked like a doughy, incompetent type of man.
“Why would you set a tire strip?” Adam asked. “To keep people out?”
“Of course not,” Tom said.
“Then
why?”
“They’re my traps.”
“Traps?” Nicky’s face fell. “You mean—?”
Tom’s smile grew wide—too wide—and then Rachel understood why this group of thirty-plus people was happy and plump out here in the middle of nowhere. Why they were so ecstatic about their arrival.
It all made sense. The roadblock, the tire spikes, the fat bellies.
“Traps?” Lindsay cocked her head to the side. “I don’t get it. A tire strip can’t catch an animal. It only messes up cars.”
Tom beamed. “You’re absolutely right, darling. These tire strips catch our food.”
Chapter Fifteen
Fucking cannibals.
Nicky reached for Lindsay’s hand.
No one had moved yet. They were all either stunned or didn’t understand what this douche-bag Tom had implied. Nicky didn’t miss it, though. Of course they were cannibals—look at those fat pricks with their potbellies during the end of the world and their goddamn socks with sandals.
“I don’t understand.” Monica’s eyes looked glassy. How much longer did she have? Should Nicky tell Adam? Did Monica know she was infected?
“Those traps catch our food.” Tom smiled again, looking like a slimy used-car salesman. He pointed behind them. “If you’re confused, by food, we mean you. Don’t try to run.”
Nicky sighed before looking over his shoulder. A group of the RVers had shifted behind them and blocked the road back up to the mountain.
Lindsay whimpered. “Nicky?”
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
“Yes, darling,” Tom said. “It’s okay. You’re just in time for supper.” He motioned to his group of men. “Round them up and put them in the cage.”
The men spread apart and pointed their rifles at them. Nicky swore—outnumbered and outgunned. The sickest part was this group had women, children and old people and none of them had a problem with laying down tire spikes to trap innocent people and eat them.
Nicky had a firm grip on Lindsay’s and Finn’s hands. Cage and Adam had shifted in front of Rachel. Dean steadied Monica on her feet. The men with the rifles ushered their group down a dirt road that led directly into the shimmering lake. Nicky counted twelve RVs parked around picnic tables, lawn chairs and fire pits—an all-American campground—but the closer they marched toward the lake, the more the scene changed.
