Through his life experiences, I imagine he swam the dark rivers of fecal matter more than I’d like to know of or count. Most times, he handled any such adversity as a grownup would—poised and collected. Other times, he’d excuse himself, and punish some unsuspecting inanimate object until he felt better.
I am my father’s son. His temper thrives inside me. I am trying to maintain my composure as best I can, but it is proving to be more difficult than what Dad could’ve ever told me it would be.
Right now, I feel as though the brown river runs deep, and it’s only getting deeper. Time to put on the wading boots, I guess.
Leaving the school the way we did, our trek into the unknown is not the same as it was when we first arrived. Coming in, we had the aid of signs that the military had put out. We also didn’t have mobs of chasers hot on our tails, or the bleakness of night to contend with.
Now, we’re just lost in unfamiliar territory where all of the suburban streets look the same. If that isn’t bad enough, then the road block, jammed with abandon cars and chasers, is.
Cassie leans forward and peers out through the windshield. She rests her arms on the center console, and pivots her head from left to right. Her discouraged look parrots mine and Lucas’s. “I guess it’s too much to ask for a break, isn’t it?”
Duke places his paws up next to Cassie’s arms as he pants slightly. She rubs under his snout. They have really bonded in a short time.
“There is no plowing through there, that’s for sure,” I add. “At least they haven’t noticed us yet.”
We’re parked in the middle of the street, and set far enough back from the congestion of metal and infected that the headlights only pierce the veil of blackness so far. The creatures that can be seen from our vantage point mill about the vehicles like they are lost and without purpose while others stand like statues, frozen in time. They’re acting similar to the ones in the town where I came across Cassie. Does the lack of stimulus place them into a catatonic state? That is one possible theory I have thought of. It seems plausible.
Lucas cocks his head to the right. He nods at the map I have clutched in my hands.
“You said Interstate 5, correct?”
I confirm with a tilt of my head. “That is what it shows. The closest destination marked on the map is a town called Yreka.”
Lucas’s palm kneads his black beard. He finally sighs. “Does that show any of the side streets or the fastest way to get to Interstate 5 from where we are?”
I unfold the map fully and lay it flat on my legs. Cassie shines her flashlight at the wrinkled paper as I skim over the area. My fingers trace along the paper while I look for any such markings designating streets or anything of the sort.
“It doesn’t show anything like that. Just vague references to towns and cities and the major roads that intersect with them,” I say.
Lucas nods, then adjusts his bulk in the Humvee’s less than comfortable seating. It’s firm and rigid as if it were made out of bricks. “I figure we’re not too far away from where we came in earlier.”
Cassie peeks at the map as her fingers continue to massage Duke’s fur. “I think we came in on SW Chestnut St. from Terwilliger Blvd.”
Those names jog my memory. Although, it’s only been a few hours or so since we arrived. My mind must have forgotten considering everything that has transpired.
I peer back to her and nod in agreement. “Yeah. I think that’s it.”
“Do we know what street we are currently on?” she asks.
Lucas positions his hands back on the steering wheel while I peer out of my window in search of any sort of marker or road sign. With the absence of daylight or any glint to aid us in our hunt, I’m finding it difficult to locate anything useful.
“Can’t tell from looking out the window. The tint isn’t helping and neither is the darkness.” I hold my hand out toward Cassie. “Let me see the flashlight. I’m going to step out really quick and see if I can get a bead on where we need to go.”
Hesitant, Cassie places the aluminum casing in my hand, but she doesn’t let it go. “You sure that’s a good idea? There could be more of those chasers close by. You step out there, you could get attacked by one.”
I grab the handle of the machete, and start to lift it up.
“You’re not going out there.” Lucas interjects curtly.
Excuse me? I cut my eyes over to him. “Why not? We have no clue where we are or how to get to Interstate 5.”
With a semi steady hand, he reaches down to the gear shift on the center console. His fingers close over the black knob tightly.
“Sit back and hold on,” he flatly orders.
Cassie quickly drifts back into the seat with Duke in her arms. My eyes shift from Lucas to out the windshield.
The chasers that were motionless now stare in our direction. A mixture of angular faces and stout bodies draped in an array of military clothing and regular civilian threads beam our way.
They advance toward us, slowly at first, as they find their way through the maze of stationary steel. They climb over the hoods and appear out from underneath the chassis of the vehicles. Like a lion spotting its prey, they’re ready to chase down their meal.
“We’ll find our way over to I5, but for now, we need to get back on the move,” Lucas warns through a tense breath.
I spot the silhouette of a figure charging right at us through the murkiness of the night. Before I have a chance to raise any alarm, it slams into the door with a painful clatter. The flashlight springs up and fires the beam of light out though the tinted glass.
Lucas jumps up from his seat slightly as a gasp and growl escape his lips. He leans away from the door and stares at the chaser’s macabre, sallow face. It barks and howls, fists hammering against the resilient glass.
The chasers before us morph from an ambling group to a sprinting mob that charges our way. More chasers appear from the blackness, and converge on us once more. With his hand still firmly gripping the gear shift, Lucas pulls it back into reverse and hits the gas.
He gets back up straight in his seat. Both hands grip the wheel tightly as he peers into the sideview mirror.
“We need to find another street to turn onto.” His voice is stricken with panic, but he remains as calm and collected as he can. I’m glad that he’s driving now instead of me.
Flooring it in reverse, Lucas’s attention toys between the sideview mirror and the uproar of the chasers seeking our flesh. I scour my side of the street for any outlet that we can exploit to gain some distance from the chasers.
Grass, trees, and houses line the suburban street with no way out. More tormented souls stagger in the night, and reach for the Humvee as they join their depraved brethren in the hunt.
“I’m not seeing a way out of here,” I call out.
The Humvee swerves erratically from side to side as Lucas tries to dodge any debris and stagnant vehicles that are parked in the street. I go to look in my sideview mirror, but remember that it was removed by the tree that nearly took us out.
“Christ!” Lucas shouts. His hands franticly twist the steering wheel to the right, sending the bulky vehicle swaying from side to side suddenly. We strike something hard that jolts us in our seats. The crunching of metal signals that we more than likely ran into a vehicle.
Jarred and a little dazed from the collision, Lucas shakes off the disorientation before regaining his focus. He shifts the gear into drive and punches the gas.
The chasers slam into the side of the armored body as he brings us full circle and heading back the way we came. We run over a handful of the creatures that rush directly in front of the vehicle without care or hesitation. Their bodies crumble upon impact and disappear from sight. Lucas keeps his foot planted firmly to the floor as the engine revs. It’s pushed to the max.
Cassie and Duke are hunkered down in the back. I can only spot the vague outline of Duke’s furry spine and splotches of Cassie’s leg.
I bring my attention
back to the street. My eyes narrow through the windshield at the sign that is coming up. The headlights wash over the white lettering, bringing a stint of relief to an otherwise dire situation.
“SW Chestnut Street!” I call out while pointing dead ahead. “Take a right, then follow it down to Terwilliger Blvd.”
“Are we sure?” Lucas belts out.
Cassie speaks up from her crouched position in the rear of the vehicle. “Those were the streets that I could remember.”
Lucas cuts the steering wheel hard to the right without letting up on the gas. The tires struggle to keep traction. We zip past cars. More chasers charge at us from every direction. He does as good of a job as one can dodging the incoming infected.
Careening down the suburban street, Lucas follows the winding road till we come to Terwilliger Blvd. He hooks a right, and floors it down the boulevard.
The number of chasers has reduced some, but there are still stragglers milling about the streets and shops that spot the hint of a possible food source. They twist their bodies in the direction of the incoming noise and sprint toward the road.
We zip past familiar buildings and vehicles which signals that we’re on the right path. I test the seatbelt to make sure it’s still latched and secured. Given our reckless driving, it may be prudent to do that.
I look to my right and find the buckle. I lace it over my waist and secure its end into the latch. We fly past a Pizza Hut, which makes my mouth water. It’s been so long since I’ve had any such food that my stomach growls and beckons for me to fill it full. It will have to wait, though. Perhaps indefinitely.
“Okay, Interstate 5 is right up here, so which way do I go?” Lucas calls out.
Cassie repositions Duke in the seat next to her as she sits up. He stays low, with his head resting on his front paws.
I lean forward and search for any way to get onto the interstate. “I don’t know. We could take Pacific Highway, and follow it down till we can find an on ramp that isn’t completely blocked with cars.”
Lucas cuts his eyes over to me. “That’s a big gamble seeing as Portland is now a complete dead zone with no way of telling how many chasers we’re looking at and where they are.”
“Keep going straight over the bridge,” Cassie flatly orders. “Trust me.”
Lucas blows through the intersection without batting an eye and heads over the bridge.
Confused, I tilt my head to the side. “Isn’t that going in the wrong direction? We want to head in the direction of California.”
Cassie nods. “We’re still heading back in the same direction, just on the other side of the road.” She points to the ramp. I recognize it from earlier. It clicks inside my head as to what she is getting at. “Here! Take the ramp!”
Lucas pumps the brake and takes the dark corner like a formula one driver—just one of the many sports that me and dad watched together.
Gravity shifts everything to the left side of the cab as Lucas dodges more abandoned cars that lurk within the blackness on the ramp. We’re more than likely in the clear from the chasers, but given how they are crawling out of every hollow void within the city, it’s better to be safe than sorry.
We find open roadway that is mostly free and clear of any obstructions. Lucas keeps the Humvee going at its top speed. I don’t question that. The faster we can get to Yreka, the better.
CHAPTER TEN
The humming of the engine.
The warm air brushing against my face.
The silence that has befallen the cab of the Humvee.
The large, thick treads of the tires playing off the asphalt.
It all melds together seamlessly in a rhythmic dance that challenges my resolve to stay awake. Within the lull that is absent of any ravenous creatures hellbent on devouring our flesh, I start to succumb to the darkness that surrounds me.
The back of my head rests against the rigid headrest of the seat as I stare out of the window, and into the great beyond. The faint hissing sound escaping Duke’s snout tickles my ears. Cassie’s just as quiet. I can’t tell if she’s getting some rest or just reflecting in the solace of the past day’s events. She has lost someone as well.
Lucas has been going non-stop since we fled the outskirts of Portland. The armored transport we procured was fortunately topped off with diesel fuel, and apparently has multiple twenty-gallon military grade fuel storage containers latched to the rear of the Humvee. An added convenience that will come in handy if we get into a pinch.
I’m unsure how much time has passed. It’s still in the dead of the night, and we’re trucking right along with not much getting in our way. That is all I need to know.
We switched over to the southbound not too far after leaving Portland. We found an opening and took it. Good thing too seeing as a major accident had the northbound lanes completely blocked—contorted metal all jumbled up into a mess that sought to hinder anyone trying to circumvent this post-apocalyptic nightmare.
Tired and weary, my head rolls over the headrest in the direction of Lucas. My eyelids are battling my will to keep them open when all my body wants to do is sleep. To be honest, sleep scares me. Has for some time. That’s when the dreams come. The nightmares of what I have done since the world seemingly imploded and slipped into madness with no hint of it coming back. Perhaps if a state of emergency was given before the SHTF, as Dad would say, then he could’ve been ready. We could have been ready. Doesn’t matter now anyway. What’s done is done.
I try not to let the demons inside, but they are persistent. No matter what defenses I throw up to stall their arrival, they find a way through. That’s what they do. I need to learn to let them come. After all, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right?
Lucas appears to be more relaxed now. Well, he doesn’t look as stressed as he did earlier when we were fleeing for our lives. He’s still as alert as he was when we first arrived. I can’t spot any sort of sleepiness within the stern, rigid expression that has owned his face for a better part of the night. The hue from the gauges in the dash highlights various portions of his facial features, which to my heavy eyes, makes him look even more intense.
He looks toward me. “I thought you were sleeping. You’ve been quiet for a while now.”
I blink slowly, or it feels like I do. I’m sluggish to respond. “I’ve been in and out. Trying to resist the urge to sleep. I figured having another set of eyes keeping watch wouldn’t hurt.”
Lucas subtly nods. “True, but if you’re that sleepy, then you may become delusional and cause more problems. Freak out on me, or see things in the night that aren’t there.”
I try to grasp onto his words, but I’m struggling to process any sort of speech at a normal pace. It takes me a few seconds for what he said to register. “Won’t happen. I’m used to staying up late and functioning without losing my mind. Video games and caffeinated soft drinks... my friend.”
Lucas half smiles, which is barely visible as he turns his attention back to the road. “You want to help, James, get some sleep like everyone else. Now’s the perfect time to do it. Things are calm. You’ve had a trying day. The sleep will do you good, and give you some clarity on what has happened, and what is still to come.”
That’s what I’m afraid of. I know what has happened. I don’t need my mind replaying it over and over again. That’s part of the problem.
I go to speak, but Lucas’s finger presses to his lips. I’m far too exhausted to tell him to stick it where the sun doesn’t shine.
“Relax. Get some rest. If I need anything, I’ll make sure to let you know. You won’t have to worry about that.”
My eyes gradually close, and the imagine of Lucas’s dimly lit face fades to black. We hit a pothole or something in the road which jars me awake enough to open my eyes once more. This time, though, I’m not in the truck, but back in my house.
I’m prone on my back in my bed with Duke sleeping next to my legs. It takes me a moment to sift through the confusion plaguing my haggard
mind.
I lay there, staring at the ceiling. What, the hell, is going on? The faint sound of voices beyond my four walls captures my attention. My head lifts free from the softness of my plush pillow. I blink a few times, trying to erase the sleepiness from them.
Daylight, or the hint thereof, brings the hallway to light just before my room. I listen closely to the chattering that is a mixture of chuckles and light-hearted banter. They sound familiar. I know those voices.
I sit all the way up in my bed, which brings Duke to life. He’s not dirty and covered in an array of earthly bound foliage. His yellow, scraggly coat appears to be clean. He also smells decent for a change.
“Hey, boy.” My fingers knead the crown of his head. I’m a bit confused, but I normally am after a hard night of sleeping. Duke gingerly licks my hand as he opens his snout wide to yawn. His fangs glisten as a bead of light from beyond my room strikes them just at the right angle.
“James! You coming down to have breakfast with us?” Dad calls out. “You don’t want it getting too cold. Your mother has been working hard on this amazing spread for the better part of the morning. Come on, sleepy head!”
I swing my legs off the right side of the bed, allowing my boots to hit the hardwood floor. I sit there for a moment, and notice that I’m fully dressed. Decked out in my hunting gear and ballcap. That’s weird. I don’t remember going hunting, or Dad telling me we were going today.
A lingering set of confusion nestles into the back of my brain as I stand up. Duke springs to his paws and leaps from the bed. He dashes out of the room and down the stairs. I imagine the scent of a hearty meal gave him ample incentive to race down to where they are. Then again, that dog never needs much prodding to get him going when it comes to Mom’s food. He’s always hungry.
Standing there, my body feels tired and worn. I’m not sure why. My muscles ache all over as if I’ve wrestled with a bear, and lost badly. Not only that, but a deep sense of sorrow and sadness reside within me for some reason. What the heck is going on with me today? Perhaps a good meal and something to drink will make things better.
Dead State (Book 3): Executioner Page 6
