by Jeff Olah
“Frank,” Ethan said, “where are the weapons?”
“Ethan, I don’t think we have near enough—”
The roadway ahead was blotted out behind a horde much larger and denser than anything Ethan had ever seen. There had to be hundreds, maybe thousands. Former Las Vegas residents and tourists alike, they appeared to be drawn to something beyond the exit, something out past the state border.
The massive crowd moved as a unit, on and off the interstate, headed away from the city. They were still more than a few hundred yards away and as Ethan slowed to watch, the pair of pickup trucks drifted slowly up the exit at Yates Well Road and stopped. They sat fifty feet apart and on opposite sides of the off-ramp, leaning on their horns until the horde finally took notice.
Ethan turned again to Frank. “Just be ready, for anything.”
Griffin pushed Boone back into his seat. “What’s the plan?”
Ethan took a moment. He turned back to the windshield and studied the crowd. “We don’t really have a choice, we’re just gonna have to wait them out.”
“There’s no way we’d make it through that, even going onto the shoulder …”
Griffin’s voice trailed off as he quickly noticed what Ethan and the others were seeing. A large grouping of Feeders had branched off and were starting up the ramp toward the two pick-up trucks. And as they moved away, more and more from the main crowd began to follow.
Within twenty minutes, the majority of the herd had left the roadway in favor of the slow moving trucks. The ground shook as Ethan slowly rolled the SUV toward the overpass, weaving between the few dozen remaining Feeders.
Ethan slid back in his seat and with a look of disbelief, he turned to the others. “Jonah is a freakin’ genius. I feel like I owe him an apology for not giving his instructions more attention.”
“So,” Boone quickly shot back, “you gonna get us the hell outta here or you waiting for an invitation?”
Back to the road, Ethan eyed the overpass and the last few Feeders that trudged along the shoulder. He looked to the West and watched the two pickup trucks disappearing behind the landscape. With the crowds well away from the interstate, they turned right on Sweet Bay Drive and quickly sped away in the opposite direction.
To no one in particular, Ethan said, “Pretty obvious they’ve done that before.”
“Yeah,” Frank followed, “Jonah said they’ve had to use the maneuver a few times before. They had one other couple leave for California a week ago.”
Ethan steered around a trio of wandering Feeders and then moving into the shadow of the overpass, focused on the other end. There were a handful of infected walking out from the incline that led to the street above, but if he went wide right, he’d easily avoid any confrontation.
“I don’t like this,” Griffin said. “Maybe we go around.”
Frank looked through the rear window and shook his head. “We can’t go back, they’re already coming down off the ramp. We don’t have enough time.”
Ethan turned to Zach and confirmed the boy’s seatbelt was buckled before wrapping his hands tightly around the wheel and accelerating around another pair of Feeders who had broken off from the pack. He focused on the shoulder at the right side of the road and as another half dozen moved down the embankment, he pushed the SUV up to forty miles per hour.
As they drove through the underpass, Carly shouted from the second row. Seated directly in front of Frank, her voice echoed through the small space. “ETHAN WATCH OUT!”
From behind the cover offered by the concrete supports, another sizeable crowd stumbled toward the interstate. Traveling too fast to avoid those most near, Ethan cut the wheel hard to the left, although the collision was inevitable.
The weight of the massive vehicle combined with the force of being broadsided by the eight disfigured bodies, rocked the SUV up onto two wheels. His head on a swivel, Ethan watched as his friends in the rear of the vehicle were tossed into one another, and seated only inches away, Zach was thrown violently against the door frame.
The SUV fought to stay upright as Ethan maintained his speed and continued onto the shoulder without overcorrecting. Straddling the edge of the road, he gently pushed down on the brake and used his right arm to hold Zach against his seat. And as the weighty vehicle righted itself, Ethan pulled back onto the interstate and slowed to a stop.
With his friends attempting to figure out what just happened, Ethan reached into the glove box, pulled out a nickel-plated Smith & Wesson Model 36 revolver and looked over at Zach. He offered a quick smile and ran his hand through the boy’s thick head of hair. “Stay here and cover your ears.”
Ethan unlocked the door, stepped out onto the roadway, and screamed as he emptied the five rounds into the only Feeder that remained on its feet. He then stood at the center of the blacked-out asphalt looking into the distance and just breathing in and out.
As he walked back to the SUV, his mother also stepped out. She held her right arm in her left and winced as she rubbed her elbow.
“Mom, are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Just bumped my arm on the door.”
“The others?”
“They’re fine as well.” She looked back as another crowd started to form near the exit ramp. “But we need to get going.”
Ethan followed her back and jumping in behind the wheel, nodded to the youngest member of the group. “You alright my man?”
Zach didn’t look over right away. He kept his head low and glanced into the back of the SUV. “Mr. Ethan, can I sit in the back?”
Ethan unbuckled Zach’s seatbelt and motioned toward the second row. “Shannon, you want to trade with Mr. Zach?”
A smile slid across Zach’s face, although he only looked up briefly to check Shannon’s reaction.
“Sure, as long as he doesn’t mind sitting between two girls.”
Finally turning in his seat, Zach looked up at Ethan and nodded. “Yes, okay.”
Ethan looked back one final time as Shannon and the young boy switched places. The approaching crowd began to grow in size and once again muted the roadway and the city beyond. And as Shannon slipped into the seat beside him, he again opened the glove box and laid the empty revolver alongside a box of .38 Special rounds.
Before shifting into drive, Ethan reached back into the console between the two seats, withdrew a CD jewel case and handed it to Shannon. Attempting to give the group a needed distraction, he said, “Whatta ya think? Maybe some tunes for the ride?”
Shannon immediately opened the case and pulled out the CD. “Hootie & the Blowfish?”
“First and only concert my dad took me to, guess he liked it.”
Ethan checked the mirror and was happy to see the slight smile his mother wore. She’d said this new world hadn’t changed her perspective on life, but he knew better. She was only holding it together for him and for Emma.
Shannon slid the CD into the player and sat back. “Hootie & the Blowfish it is.”
182
Emma, I’m coming to get you. Ethan
Emma read the text yet again. She stared at the screen and as it began to go dark, she ran her index finger over the words. Those twenty-five individual letters gave her a new focus. They told her that there was still something to live for. And although the date stamp indicated that her brother had sent the message more than two days prior, she believed.
“I’m ready.”
Emma turned to Tom and tucking her phone back into her bag, she looped the rope around her waist, positioning it under her legs. She hurried to the edge, checked the crowd below and breathed deep.
“Okay.”
Tom tugged on the length of rope, checking his anchor point. He paused before getting into position and rubbed at the gritty beard overtaking his face. “You sure you want to keep it with you? I mean it sounds like someone is tracking you.”
Emma’s face changed. Her eager smile quickly faded as her eyes drew in tight. “My brother, it’s the only way I’m still
connected to my family.”
“It’s really not. Keeping that thing around isn’t going to help them find you, but it looks like it might just help someone else.”
Tom was right and she knew it. The fact that those two messages even came through was something she didn’t quite understand. She hadn’t had a signal in the last three days and she probably wouldn’t again for the foreseeable future. But she also wasn’t exactly ready to give up. “Okay then, I’ll leave it turned off like I did before and if I don’t get another message by tomorrow morning, I’ll leave it behind.”
“Trust me Emma, your only job now is to stay alive. Your family will find you, I promise.”
Emma nodded, then moved to the edge and swung her legs over. She tightened the straps on her pack and then looked directly into Tom’s eyes. “Do. Not. Drop me. Okay?”
“You just focus on keeping your feet against the wall.”
With one last look around the roof, Emma gripped the rope, leaned forward, and kissed Tom on the side of the face. “First thing we’re doing when we find your friends is locating a toothbrush and some toothpaste.”
“Just one?”
“Well,” Emma said, her face turning a light shade of pink, “if you don’t mind sharing.”
Tom pulled the rope taut between him and Emma, removing the slack. He then sat back and braced his legs against the parapet, lowering Emma a few feet. And keeping his voice only slightly above a whisper he said, “You good?”
Weighing only one-hundred-five pounds before the world went to hell, Emma assumed she was well below that now. Having only eaten a handful of times over the last several days, she was certain that Tom could handle her weight and then some. What concerned her had less to do with the rope around her waist and more to do with the growing crowd now pushing in on the grossly inadequate chain-link fence.
Emma pushed away from the wall and called out to Tom, no longer concerned with keeping her voice down. “We need to hurry; the fence isn’t going to hold.”
Tom’s voice—still barely audible—came from above. “Get ready to run when you hit the ground.”
Emma looked over her shoulder and with less than ten feet to the pavement, she brought her legs in. Without her shoes sliding against the block wall, she began descending at an increased rate. She dropped the last few feet, quickly untied the rope, and stepped away. “Okay,” she said, “Come on, there isn’t much—”
As Tom swung his legs over the ledge and began lowering himself, the hinge along the upper left corner of the fence buckled. Metal on metal, the weakened fence groaned under the increasing weight, the sound echoing through the narrow alley and out into the streets beyond.
Directly below, Emma turned from Tom to the crowd and then back to Tom, again shouting over their guttural groans. “HURRY UP!”
“Emma,” Tom said dangling from eight feet above. “Move back.”
Emma quickly stepped away just as the lower hinge exploded inward. Her heart felt like it was going to explode. A rush of adrenaline shot through her as the barrier collapsed, sending the first row of Feeders to the pavement and the ones behind them stumbling forward.
“WE HAVE TO GO!”
From eight feet, Tom shouted back. “EMMA RUN!”
She had absolutely no intention of leaving Tom behind. And although it appeared that the ravenous horde would reach him before he could navigate the last several feet, she couldn’t let it end this way. Not here in this alley and not now.
Back to the crowd, Emma searched for something, anything she could use to delay the inevitable. With only a few seconds to take action, Emma quickly looked down to the opposite end of the one-hundred-foot alley. Nothing between them and the west side of Sixth Street, but an overturned dumpster and a few wooden pallets.
Three seconds, that’s what she now estimated they had. And as she turned to check his progress, Tom dropped from the rope. He landed feet first and rolled backward toward a trio of Feeders who’d broken away from the main pack. The smallest of the three, a former grocery store clerk, still wore her badly mangled uniform as she launched herself forward and into Tom’s back.
Still attempting to right himself, Tom was pushed forward by the collision and up onto his hands and knees. He reached for Emma, but as the pair behind the female clerk staggered forward and dropped, the first and much larger male grabbed him by the right calf.
Emma screamed as she grabbed Tom’s hand and started to pull him backward. Tom kicked at the massive creature only to have it bring its face down in an arc heading for his pant leg. He again kicked, this time squarely making contact along the Feeder’s neck and causing it to release its grip on his leg.
Emma tried to come forward and help him up, although Tom pushed her away. He quickly crawled backward and jumped to his feet. Looking over his shoulder and then calculating their odds, he grabbed her by the arm and began to run.
“Let’s go, there’s a chapel two blocks away.”
Emma liked this version of Tom. This was the same man who had rescued her from the parking garage all those days before and also the man who saved her life out on the street when death was all but certain. She only hoped she’d somehow be able to return the monumental gesture at some point.
With the pile-up of Feeders giving them a welcome break, Tom sprinted behind Emma. He asked her to slow briefly as they reached the next street, before turning it on once again and attempting to put some space between themselves and their pursuers.
“Ahead on the left,” Tom said, already out of breath. “Go wide on the sidewalk, no surprises.”
Emma put her head down and watched the sidewalk ahead. The crowd behind had begun filtering out of the alley and now drew the attention of those outside the front door of the bagel shop.
Over her right shoulder, Tom had dropped back a few paces. However, Emma was just beginning to hit her stride as she drifted wide around the side of the brick-walled chapel. She looked back only once and motioned toward the far end of the building. “There’s a door, but we have to hurry.”
Tom had begun to slow, but waved her on. He stepped up onto the sidewalk, moved in close to the wall, and leaned around the corner. After a beat, he sprinted away from the building to a spot at the center of the parking lot and under the shade of a tree, retrieved a blue backpack.
Emma continued to run, but then stopped as she approached the door. “TOM!”
Throwing the pack over his shoulder, Tom checked the progress of the horde one last time and then started back toward Emma and the open door at the side of the chapel. “CHECK THE DOOR!”
Emma leaned in through the open door and quickly scanned the interior. Nothing but the smell of old wood and dust lingered in the air as she stepped inside. And as her eyes adjusted to the change in illumination, she waited inside the threshold, waving Tom forward.
Once inside, Tom also looked over the area, gently closed the door and dropped the pack at his feet. “We’ll be safe here, at least until we decide what we’re going to do.”
Emma’s hands were shaking and she was still out of breath. “How … how did you …”
Tom reached for her hand. “I had been watching this place since last night. No one had come in or gone out and there wasn’t a single Feeder anywhere in the area.”
“Okay,” Emma said. “But we can’t stay here, we need to keep moving.”
“Let’s just make sure that crowd doesn’t hang around. It looks like they were drawn away by the others over on Sixth, but let’s give it an hour or so.”
Tom locked the deadbolt, looked out over the lot one last time, and then started toward the front of the chapel. Within ten minutes, they had confirmed that the building was secure and now sat on the floor digging through the blue backpack.
Emma attempted a condescending tone. “Was it worth it, I mean really?”
“I thought it might have been Bryce’s.”
“Really?”
“Looked like his.”
Emma shook her he
ad. “And every other blue backpack in the world.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Tom said, trying not to sound surprised as he pulled out a half-empty jar of chunky peanut butter. “But now we have something to eat, and I’ll tell you what, once we finish this off, we’ll figure out what comes next.”
Emma leaned back against the door and looked out through the slats of the wood shutters toward the highway. “Okay, but I get the first bite.”
183
Ethan drove along the highway in silence as the city he’d been dreaming about for the last two weeks appeared on the horizon. The others had long ago drifted off and the rhythmic cadence of the wheels against the road was the only thing keeping him from doing the same. Beside him, Shannon slowly turned her head away from the door and opened her eyes.
“Hey.”
“Hey yourself,” Shannon said, rubbing at the corners of her eyes and looking into the distance. “Where are we?”
“We’re here.”
Shannon slid up in her seat and gently reached for Ethan’s right hand. “You know where we’re going?”
“I know where she was four days ago, but now …”
“So?”
“So now we wake him up, give him his phone, and find out if he was actually telling the truth.”
Shannon lowered her voice to a whisper. “Okay, but what if he wasn’t? What are we going to do then?”
Ethan squeezed her hand and nodded, but continued to look straight ahead. He hadn’t talked with the others about his plan, mainly because he still wasn’t exactly sure what Boone’s motives were. He was cautiously optimistic that however the day ended, he would be with Emma. That was all that mattered and if Boone came through in the way he’d indicated, then maybe he wouldn’t have to kill him.
“I don’t know,” Ethan said. “I just don’t know.”
Shannon turned in her seat. With her back to the window, she now faced Ethan. “We’re going to get through this, Ethan.”
