Nick kissed Kate’s temple and pulled away, ready to continue their looting journey with the plus one they had acquired.
Chapter 8
“How did you end up at the junkyard, anyway?” Kate asked.
The three of them had been walking for about an hour. Suburbia faded into dirt roads and patches of trees, then swelled with buildings and businesses again. They crossed the major highway that cut the state from top to bottom.
The sight of the roadway would have made them pause if it had not resembled every space of the earth they had traversed so far. The southbound lanes were jammed with bumper-to-bumper vehicles. Some had wrecked into each other or the concrete barrier separating the highway. The number of bodies exceeded the amount of cars, and the stench reached the group’s noses before the sights did. While the aroma was not pleasant, it was familiar. Decay—the perfume of the world.
The northbound lanes were nearly clear: evidence that everyone attempting to outrun the disease had hoped to head south. Away from the political capital of the country. Away from the majority suffering from the disease.
“I was the oldest. Three brothers and two sisters. My dad was out of the picture, and my mom worked her ass off trying to support us, working two jobs. She was stressed all the time and just really unhappy; so when she started seeing this guy, I was pretty stoked for her. But when I turned eighteen, she just dipped. Took off with that dude. I tried so fucking hard to keep it all together, but social services ended up taking my brothers and sisters away. I lost the house, had nowhere to go, so I ended up at the junkyard.”
Up to this point, the group had walked in silence. While Kate enjoyed the serenity of an empty world and the sights of undiscovered places, Nick watched Phoenix. He noted his gestures and facial expressions. If there were any hints of danger to glean from Phoenix’s activities, Nick was determined to pick up on it. What he observed, and what Phoenix’s story supported, was a naive boy, still so unaware of how cruel one human could be to another, doing his best to survive.
“I’m sorry you went through that,” Kate said. Nick watched her gaze at Phoenix with pity and wondered how, after all that she had been through, she still had room for others’ emotions.
A crowd of undead walked with sedated steps along the far end of the highway. Nick counted four Infected, their hollow eyes unaware of their presence. As the creatures fumbled along the pavement, they disrupted a crowd of vultures picking at putrefying bodies. The gaunt birds stretched their massive wings and flew away, settling on a nearby tree until they could return to their meal.
“Hey!” a voice rang out, traveling between the mess of stalled vehicles and bouncing off the empty road. Nick swiveled toward the sound with his rifle ready. His eyes darted around looking for the source.
“Stay back,” Nick instructed Kate with a gesture of his hand.
Phoenix stepped up beside Nick, his eyes scanning every inch of his surroundings. Nick pulled a pistol from his waistband and slid it into Phoenix’s grasp. Together, the men swept the area, looking into and around vehicles for any signs of life or unlife.
A blue coupe with its door ajar did not strike the men as odd until it swung open to its full extent. Nick and Phoenix trained their weapons on the figure inside.
“Guys, please. I need help.” A blonde, middle-aged man sat inside the car. As Nick walked tactically around the open door with his rifle aimed, he saw the man’s jeans were ripped open around the thigh. Shreds of denim bordered a wound gushing with blood. A body lay face down on the ground beside the car, and gore sprinkled the asphalt surrounding it.
“What happened?” Nick barked. The man heaved and panted as he attempted to sit up from his reclined position in the car.
“Fucker bit me. This…isn’t my car. I jumped in to get away from that thing but it grabbed the door before I could close it. Took a chunk out of my thigh. I barely managed to fight it off.”
“You armed?” Nick took a step closer to peer around the man’s waist inside the vehicle.
“If I were armed, I would have killed the damn thing before it bit me!” The man blew out a breath in exasperation. Nick lowered his rifle, letting it hang from the sling around his torso, and pulled his backpack from his shoulders.
“He’s gonna turn,” Phoenix said in a shaky voice. He gripped the pistol in trembling hands and took slow steps toward the car.
“He’s not going to turn. Phoenix, put the gun down.” Nick kept a steady, confident tone.
“How do you know? How can you be so sure?” Phoenix asked, nearly shrieking.
“Because. I just know. That’s not how the disease spreads. Put the fucking gun down!” Nick stepped toward Phoenix, and he jumped as if startled. Nick moved back, nervous that Phoenixwould pull the trigger in his distressed state. The option to tell Phoenix all he knew about the disease and the cure pricked at Nick’s mind. The words were at the tip of his tongue, but he had resolved not to speak of the cure to anyone untrustworthy.
If Nick patched the man’s wound, he would want to join them. Once at the military base, assuming it was functional, the stranger could blurt out all he knew of Nick, the disease, and the cure. It could go well. The people may welcome a cure and agree to form a plan to settle the newly restored. Or they steal Nick’s supply of the cure. Destroy it. Find the hospital and eliminate Dr. Chamberlain and everything he had worked at creating. No, he would not allow this information into the ears of those he did not trust until the time was right.
“Come on, guys. I don’t know how it works. I’m just a guy trying to find his family. I won’t hurt you,” the man begged.
“Have you seen a single fucking zombie movie, bro? You get bit, you’re cooked!”
“This isn’t a damn movie, Phoenix. I’ll treat his wound, and he’ll be fine.” Nick opened his pack and pulled out the first aid kit as if to finalize the decision.
“Please, man. Put the gun down.” The injured man raised up his hands as if he could shield his face. Phoenix’s features contorted with deliberation. When he began lowering the gun, Nick breathed a relieved sigh.
Nick carefully approached the bleeding man, the first aid kit tucked in his arm. He kneeled beside the car, face to face with the gash in the man’s thigh. Teeth marks dug into the skin creating a crater of maroon. The denim surrounding the wound was stiff and caked with dried blood.
Nick lowered his head, sifting through the first aid kit for the items he would need.
