by Jeff Olah
Ethan shook his head. “I can’t see what’s beyond the shoulder, not yet anyway.”
“Okay,” Griffin said, “you and I go check the area, Frank follows from a safe distance. We’re going to need the truck over here eventually anyway. If things go sideways, we’ll hop back in and get the hell out of here.”
Ethan liked his own plan better. The parking lot was flat, had no blind spots, and from where they sat, not even the twenty-four-hour diner posed a problem. He could quickly check the line of forgotten vehicles, find one or two that they could siphon, and then wave them over. Anything short of that and they’d all be heading toward the unknown.
Moving back to the SUV, Ethan avoided eye contact with his mother and turned to Frank. “If anything, I mean anything at all looks even a little bit off, you do not hesitate to drive away. You good with that?”
“Yes,” Frank said. “I’ll stay back enough to make sure there aren’t any surprises.”
Turning back to Griffin, he’d concede for the moment. He still didn’t like the idea of all seven of them rolling toward the row of stalled vehicles, but as long as Frank stayed at a safe distance, he was willing to try it their way.
As Frank started the massive SUV, a small flock of crows sitting on the roof of the twenty-four-hour diner turned toward the sound and took flight. As they lifted into the air, and began to caw in unison, Ethan patted Griffin on the shoulder and motioned toward the line of vehicles.
“Aren’t crows supposed to be good luck?”
“You tell me.”
“I guess as long as we believe it, then it doesn’t really matter.”
They quickly crossed over the interstate, kicking a trail of dust up into the sky as they moved through the area between the north and south bound lanes. With Ethan and Griffin making their way onto the soft shoulder and now less than twenty yards from the line of cars, trucks, and vans, Frank rolled the SUV to a stop in the number one lane.
All eyes were on Ethan and Griffin as they quickly moved from one vehicle to the next, never stopping to look inside for more than a few seconds each. As Ethan reached the military transport vehicle, he slowly stepped up next to the cab and peered inside from behind the driver’s window. The same as all the rest, nothing.
Shouting back to Frank, Ethan said, “Let’s get started at the front.” He then quickly leapt to the ground, and started back toward the end of the line.
Striding quickly back to the others alongside Ethan, Griffin said, “I’ll check the cars for supplies. You want to try the diner once we’re finished here?”
“I’m good with that, but let’s get through this first.”
He watched as Griffin retrieved a plastic bag from the back of the SUV and then moved off. Starting with the red two-door coupe at the end of the line, Ethan grabbed the siphon pump and helped Frank pull alongside.
Opening the fuel door on the SUV, Ethan dropped one end of the hose in and hurried to get the pump set up. Within minutes, the red coupe was bone dry and Ethan estimated he’d maybe pulled out five gallons.
On to the next vehicle, a silver minivan, Ethan again dropped the pump hose in and went to work. This time he’d gone a full five minutes before the pump started pulling in air. This was progress. Another ten minutes and they’d have one less thing to worry about.
Moving on, Ethan waved Frank forward, and as they pulled alongside the next vehicle, Ethan had him leave the engine running. “Where we at?”
“About half a tank,” Frank said. “We’re almost there.”
At his back, Ethan watched Griffin dig into the next vehicle. His friend disappeared headfirst behind the driver’s door and began searching the glove box and in between the seats. He worked quickly and was done with the car in less time than it took Ethan and Frank to scope the next vehicle.
Walking backward, Ethan stopped at the next in line, a large white pickup truck. He scanned the body front to back and again waved Frank forward. “Tank’s on the other side, let’s move on to the next one.”
The next one, a mid-sized SUV, similar to the one Josie had driven, sat at a slight angle to the others. Ethan guided Frank forward and then hurried to begin the pumping process yet once again. And as the fuel began to flow, the interior rear of his own vehicle exploded in a flurry of frantic voices.
Ben could be heard above the others as he pointed out through the passenger side windows. Sliding into the second row, he reached with his left hand for a nine millimeter pistol Griffin had left, and winced as he leaned into the door.
“Ethan, we’ve got company.”
Leaning into the hood, Ethan could see why the others were shouting over one another, attempting to gain his attention. No less than two dozen Feeders had walked away from the twenty-four-hour diner and were now stumbling across the deserted interstate.
Four lanes and a small patch of dirt were all that separated them from the horde, and in less than thirty seconds, the entire shoulder would be overrun. Moving first to the rear of the mid-sized SUV, Ethan ripped free the hose and pump, as he called out to Griffin.
“Buddy, it’s time to go, like right now.”
Griffin was already running back toward him as Ethan finished removing the hose and tossing it back into its metal container. Sliding the container into the rear of the SUV, slamming the hatch, and returning the gas cap, he headed back toward the driver’s door. Glancing through the windows, and checking the horde’s progress, the excited voices from the interior again boomed.
Ethan couldn’t believe what he was seeing. There was no way that this was happening yet again. He tried to shout, but his voice was now caught in his throat. And as he rounded the front of the SUV, Ben had grabbed the nine millimeter, opened the rear passenger door, and stepped out.
133
As Ethan attempted to make sense of what his younger friend was doing, images of a similar scene, from days earlier, flashed through his mind. He could vividly picture Cora in her final moments, prematurely exiting the SUV and being overrun by the horde that approached from the rear. Her screams pounded in his ears and recalling the smell of death that hung in the air that night, he drew both pistols and stood facing the approaching crowd.
“Ben,” Ethan said, “get your ass back inside.”
Ben gripped the nine millimeter in his left hand, leaned against the door frame, closed one eye, and fired off three quick rounds. Ignoring Ethan, he’d struck two of the Feeders that were out in front, the first cartwheeling sideways and the second, struck just above the right eyebrow, dropped instantly.
The crowd continued forward, stumbling over the two that had fallen. From the left, a large Feeder, who looked to be a former truck driver, moved a few paces quicker than the others. His red and black flannel, shredded from the chest down, swayed in the slight breeze as he pushed his way to the front.
As the six foot plus, former trucker stepped past the pair that Ben had taken to the ground, he locked eyes with the injured twenty-three year old. As Ben stared back, the incensed Feeder curled back his blood-saturated lips, and let out a deep guttural growl that appeared to shake the ground.
The beast continued forward and within five feet of his intended target, lunged forward. Leaving his feet, he slammed shoulder first into Ben’s chest, sending the kid backward and into the SUV.
Stepping in, Ethan placed his foot against the open door and kicked it into the back of the Feeder now half inside his vehicle. Through the glass, he could see Ben scrambling for the weapon he’d dropped, only to back away as the former trucker clawed wildly at the air.
Ethan’s anger, as well as his heart rate, began to climb. Moving to the opposite side of the door, he pulled it open and grabbed the Feeder by the back of its pants, forcing him out onto the hard-packed dirt. Pulling one of two weapons from his waistband, he kicked the door shut, shoved the barrel against the back of the beast’s head, and pulled the trigger.
Before Ethan had time to react, Griffin had slid in beside him and fired off four quick shots
, dropping a pair of Feeders that were only steps behind the former truck driver. And with another six closing in quickly, the pair stood on opposite sides, unable to take a shot for fear of striking one another in the crossfire.
Ethan reacted first. He moved away from the SUV and his friends, heading behind the line of vehicles they’d used for fuel. Griffin noticed what his friend had planned and ran in from the other direction, both men placing the forgotten vehicles between themselves and the approaching horde.
“Wait,” Ethan said, “bring them all here before you fire. I don’t want to have to do this twice.”
As Ethan pounded on the hood of the red coupe, Griffin leapt over the rear bumper and joined his friend. “You know I’m going to kill that kid, right?”
“Not if I get to him first.”
One by one, the group of more than twenty Feeders became more interested in the two men slamming their hands into the red coupe than the five others they were unable to get to. Slowly turning, they staggered away from the SUV and started toward the line of stalled vehicles, jamming themselves between the red coupe and the silver minivan.
Angling himself so any errant shots would travel away from where his friends sat staring back at him, Ethan waited another beat as the riotous crowd filtered in. They pushed in behind one another, wedging those in front into the narrow space between the two contrasting automobiles.
The first three were now pinned where the license plates of the two vehicles met, unable to move forward as the others pushed in from behind. They clawed at the minivan’s windshield and at the rear of the red coupe, fighting to free themselves. The more that piled in from behind, the heavier the load keeping them in place.
Ethan hurried over to the rear of the red coupe and stood alongside Griffin. With one weapon still sitting flush against his lower back, he gripped the other, and asked his friend to step back.
Extending his right arm, Ethan sighted the sixth Feeder back and squeezed off a single round. Before he could blink, the agitated creature’s head exploded in a bright red haze, sending fragmented pieces of flesh ricocheting off those behind. The Feeder’s lifeless body rocked backward into the next Feeder and then fell forward, further trapping those in front.
Stepping onto the rear of the red coupe, Ethan stayed just out of reach of the pinned Feeders, withdrew his second pistol, and fired another six shots. Targeting every other one, he had eliminated most of the threat and only needed to outrun the last four or five back to the SUV.
Looking back at Griffin, he pointed to a spot fifty yards from where they stood.
“There?”
Griffin nodded, knowing what Ethan had in mind.
Then back to the SUV, Ethan shouted at Frank. “Go, we’re coming.”
Frank had already turned over the engine and shifting back into drive, slammed the gas pedal to the floor. The massive black sport utility vehicle jumped forward and away from the crowd that had already begun to turn. Steering up the short embankment and into the northbound lane, Frank and the others sat watching and waiting.
Before turning and jumping off the trunk of the red coupe, Ethan took down another two Feeders who’d freed themselves and started toward the embankment. He fired only three quick shots and then followed Griffin as they stayed hidden behind the line of front to back, frozen in place vehicles.
Slowing only momentarily, Ethan rounded the rear of the military transport vehicle and paused. Assured that he and Griffin would reach the road before the half dozen Feeders that had broken loose, he started across the open patch of earth to the waiting SUV and his friends.
Before reaching the edge of the road, he glanced beyond the southbound lanes and into the parking lot of the twenty-four-hour diner. Another ten Feeders had stumbled out from behind the building and now limp-walked across the dusty asphalt.
“Griff, we gotta go.”
Running the last thirty feet to his friends, Ethan opened the door and waited for Frank to scramble into the back. He slid in behind the wheel, slammed the door, and shifted back into drive. With his right foot hovering over the gas and the SUV rolling forward, Griffin moved to the opposite side and climbed in behind Shannon.
As the group settled in, Ethan breathed hard and deep, his pulse now pounding in his forehead. Guiding the oversized vehicle across the large strip of earth that separated the northbound and southbound lanes, he slipped his seatbelt over his left shoulder and slowly pressed the gas pedal to within an inch of the floor.
Pulling away from the exit and the dozen or so Feeders that faded into the distance, Ethan checked their fuel. Satisfied that they’d now easily reach Vegas, he turned his attention to the rear-view mirror and waited for the kid to notice.
Less than ten seconds later, Ben tentatively shifted his gaze to meet Ethan’s, but quickly looked away. Shifting nervously in his seat, he said, “Ethan… I’m sorry.”
The interior quieted as Ethan clamped down on the steering wheel, his knuckles turning a bright shade of white.
“No, Ben,” the intensity in Ethan’s voice climbed with every other word, “you’re not sorry. What you did back there was extremely stupid. You not only risked your own life, but every other person in this vehicle, and I’m getting a little sick of always having to come to your rescue. This isn’t a video game and there aren’t any do-overs.”
Every other conversation had ceased and all eyes now rested on Ethan. “You all need to get your act together, because I can’t do this anymore. I’m not here to babysit you, and no one is coming to help. It’s us and that’s it, so the rest of you are going to have to take a little responsibility for your actions. I’m going to the coast to find my sister, and I’m not going to allow any of you to screw that up.”
134
The group of seven hadn’t spoken a word in the last three hours. With little else to do but ponder Ethan’s rant, Helen, Frank, and Carly had again fallen asleep just as the sun dipped behind the horizon. Ben faced away and stared out the same window for most of the afternoon as Griffin sat quietly working his way through a colorful bag of cold cereal.
He wasn’t sorry for what he’d said and had no regrets about the way he handled the situation with Ben. The kid had taken too many chances and placed himself directly in harm’s way more times than Ethan cared to remember. There were too many variables having six other people to protect. Ethan just hoped that what he was going to do was the right thing.
Glancing at Shannon, she also sat quietly, now leaning against the passenger door, and watching the passing desert landscape. On more than one occasion, she’d turned to offer Ethan a hopeful smile, to squeeze his hand, or to just look into his eyes. He hadn’t yet really thought about what he’d said and how it may have affected her. He knew he’d have to explain himself at some point, but not with the others so close by. Looking away, he checked his mirrors one last time and then watched as their destination came into view.
The desert city sat not more than five miles away as Ethan thought back to what Mayor Gil Walker had said about the military clearing a path all the way to the coast. Initially, he’d thought the idea was ludicrous; however, other than a few vehicles that dotted the interstate back at the Nevada border, every inch of highway he’d driven had been free of anything that possessed four wheels. Although at the moment, Ethan wasn’t sure if this was something to celebrate or be fearful of.
The exit for South Las Vegas Blvd and downtown was still a few miles off when he first noticed the thick black smoke. It crawled away from the city and gave the late afternoon skyline a murky brown glow. He kept the windows of the SUV up, but as they rolled to a stop at the bottom of the ramp for Charleston Boulevard, the overwhelming stench of burning fuel filtered in through the vents.
Left on Charleston, Ethan drove under the interstate and slowed along the right sidewalk. Much different from the last seven-hundred-fifty miles, these roads were a maze of wrecked vehicles and decaying corpses. Three bodies lay near the middle of the road, each eliminated with
a single shot to the head. Human or otherwise, this is where they ended their journey.
Leaning into the steering wheel, he turned to Shannon and motioned toward the barrier at the right side of the road. Three taxi cabs had been pushed into an empty field just beyond the off-ramp and were littered with bullet holes from top to bottom, as if someone, or a few someones had decided to take target practice in the middle of the city.
Before turning his attention back to the road, Ethan looked closer and saw a jacketed arm hanging from the rear door of the taxi, closest to the street. A thick trail of blood had run down the victim’s body, across his or her hand, and now pooled in an open briefcase sitting near the rear tire. Ethan shook his head.
Turning off Charleston, and heading south on Las Vegas Boulevard, Ethan sat up in his seat and pumped the brakes when he realized what he was looking at. The source of the burning fuel was obvious. Although slowly pulling alongside the first of many scorched vehicles, Ethan had to turn away at the sight of the four elderly bodies still strapped into the seats of their charred convertible.
Scanning the street, the fire had long since been extinguished and there were no indications as to the cause of the grotesque scene; however, this was no accident. This was something altogether different, something he and the others had not yet witnessed—this was a slaughter of four innocent people who at the time were obviously unable to defend themselves. It was apparent that Vegas had fallen, what wasn’t clear was how or why.
Avoiding the torched convertible, Ethan rolled the SUV into the empty parking lot of a storage facility, and pulled to a stop. Facing south, the lot sat up from the street, giving him a good vantage of the long boulevard. He quickly checked the area beyond his windshield and opened the door.
Stepping out onto the asphalt, Ethan glared into the distance. More destroyed vehicles, and not just convertibles or taxis. Some were burned, some flipped over, and a few that had enough bodily damage that Ethan would have believed they were dropped from the top of a casino.
