10. Chapter 10
Chapter ten
Shelby
Since once again I don't have a better option, I trudge behind her, grateful when we pass out of the darkness and back into the main part of the store.
My relief fades though as we pause at the entrance and stare out the window at the newest threat. My car still sits beside the gas pump but now there's a group of them circling.
Can they fucking sense us? Fuck!
There’s still no sign of the men or dogs, which does nothing to raise my flagging spirits. We can’t reach the car without fighting them and the remainder of our group disappeared without a trace.
I guess the decision of what to do is taken from us though when a low rumble breaks out from somewhere in the distance and we all, the fucker’s surrounding the car included, turn.
The honking horn precedes a vehicle as it careens around the corner, moving way too fast. My heart jumps into my throat and I stumble back, grabbing for Nora’s arm. She covers her face when it plows through the group of undead fuckers like a bowling ball striking the pins.
After slamming into the back of my car, the old Impala skids across the pavement, the trunk crumpling while the rear right tire pops like a balloon.
It wasn’t all that promising with those suckers surrounding it but now the possibility of escape in a vehicle is all but gone, not to mention the supplies Cason raided from my house and stowed in the incinerated trunk.
Damn.
Those that did not fall away under the impact of the collision stagger around while I eye the driver slumped over the wheel. Beside him, the passenger door flies open, and a young man emerges.
When he stumbles away clutching his head, I push on the door before Nora grabs my shoulder and says, “Wait.”
Nodding, I wrap my icy fingers around the handle while we watch him move around in a daze. The things surround the car in a frenzy, but two have broken away at the sight of the guy and approach in much the same manner he currently wanders around.
For a moment, I consider the possibility he’s one of them before he backs away and screams, “Help.”
When I glance at Nora, she returns my grim gaze before busting through the door. I’m right behind her but slow when she shoves a young woman with short dark hair and sporting a pair of jorts out of the way.
I’m already recovering from the temporary insanity of fighting off two of them in the store. Do I have it in me to jump into danger for some kid I don’t know?
Thankfully, the woman wobbles before face planting on the pavement but beside her, a man in overalls and grease from head-to-toe spins Nora’s way.
Although I pause, which is a completely normal reaction in a time like this, or so I rationalize, I can’t stand by and watch my newfound friend die. The man outweighs me by fifty pounds or more though, so my best bet is to curl into myself before rushing him.
I’m not ashamed to say that I squeal like a fucking coward, but I manage to push him back before pain explodes in my already aching ribs.
Although he does stagger when I go to back up, he swipes at my hair, and I fall to my knees before rolling away. Of course, he’s on me before I get far and I shove his hands away, eyeing his fingers and the nails both bloody and slick.
Further up his arms, I spy the bite marks that no doubt turned him as he drops to his knees and swipes at me again. The fetid stench emanating from his body makes my stomach churn but it’s the least of my worries when he topples and I collapse beneath him.
It’s all I can do to breathe, and I think this might be it until Cason appears above me, his mouth curled into a frown and says, “Move.”
Immediately I roll as best I can with his body half over mine. Apparently, it’s far enough and the loud bang that follows echoes in my ears while I crawl away.
Shit. That was fucking close.
I have no time to process this newest change or even my relief though because Cason barks, “Let's roll.”
Somehow, I manage to push to my feet and through the tunneling of my vision, I move toward Nora’s retreating back, beyond which is an actual van, industrial sized too.
I’m inside and sliding into the back beside the teen from the crashed car when Nora collapses in the seat in front of me. Nate and Larry follow before Cason jumps into the driver's seat, throws his backpack aside and we peel out with squealing tires.
In a daze, I lean my forehead against the seat in front of me and take deep breaths while pain pounds through me on wings of fire.
The low rumble of the engine is the only sound until the boy beside me whimpers and I eye him sideways. His bottom lip quivers and when he swipes his dark hair off his brow, my heart clenches.
At the desperate sound of his sobs, I touch his arm only to recoil when he stiffens. Before I can truly back away though, he leans over and drops his head into my lap.
Frozen, I stare at the freckle on his temple while he trembles in my embrace before his wretched cries batter at my chest and I smooth my fingers through his hair.
This seems to ease him, but he stares at the back of the seat, shivering in my lap until eventually, it fades into muffled hiccups and he passes into a restless sleep.
The scenery flies by, the grass swaying in a breeze that I can’t feel. I can’t feel anything because I’m numb. I’m fucking numb but rage swirls beneath the surface of the deadened skin and bone.
For the world as we know it now. For those things taking and taking and fucking taking. For Cason and the guys who thought it prudent to leave us without a word while they sought out the van.
It all writhes and boils but I push it down, down, down until I can’t feel it. That is until Nate makes the mistake of speaking.
I missed the beginning of the conversation, but tune in when he says, “What? We can’t fucking do that. It’s suicide, bro.”
Cason glances in the rear-view mirror, his jaw twitching and says, “We don’t have a choice. We only have so much gas. I used the last of my ammo back there.”
Nate snorts and shakes his head. “Of course, bitches can’t do anything fucking right.”
At his words, Nora stiffens and swings around while I stare at the back of his head dumbly before growling, “What the fuck did you just say?”
Nate’s mouth curls into a moue of distaste but he doesn’t comment, and I slam my palm against the back of the seat. “Well?”
Bean yelps from the floorboard where she was curled up beside Bo, who raises his head and blinks.
My slumbering teen awakens, tensing in my lap. Ignoring him and all the assholes in the car of whom I feel their burning stares, I lean over the seat, scoffing as Nate says, “Nothing.”
“That’s a relief," I hiss, "because while you bitches took off without telling us, we were left to find your sorry asses. Too fucking bad you came back to a mess. You’re lucky we didn’t leave you behind.”
When Nate falls to sullen silence, I exhale before sitting back and crossing my arms.
Meanwhile the teenager slowly sits up and inches away. I’m immune to anything but my rage though which only starts to fade when I meet Cason’s wide-eyed stare via the mirror.
He raises a brow, and I mimic him, ignoring the burn in my chest when his lips quirk before he turns back to the road.
At that, I hide my smile because I may have just been a raging bitch, but I stood up for myself and after years of cowering, it felt really fucking good.
Cason
Focusing back on the road, I let my hands relax on the wheel. Nate wasn’t exactly quiet back there and my instinct to fuck up his world after calling the women bitches almost had us swerving into a ditch.
Miraculously, Shelby let her anger fly and all the while, I admired her sparkling blue eyes as she spoke passionately. The weird burn in my chest feels a little lighter at that which I refuse to analyze.
Instead, I acknowledge, it was foolish to separate, especially when the women had no clue where we ended up. Hell, we might have avoided some of the fallout if I had thought to send someone back.
The problem is, I don’t trust Nate, the squirrelly little fucker and I needed Larry to push the damn van into the street where we were able to jump start it. What the hell do I do about Nate though?
Something about him doesn’t sit right. I can’t put my finger on it, but I never ignore my instincts. I can’t exactly kick him to the curb without a reason though. For now, I’ll have to watch him closely and hope I don’t regret it, especially because something's brewing between him and Shelby.
Speaking of which, I glance in the mirror and meet Shelby’s stare. When she raises her brow in challenge, I can’t help my smile but my stomach sinks when she looks away with rosy cheeks.
Maybe she’s just naturally shy? I sure fucking hope so because even though I’d have to be blind not to see the beauty hidden beneath her bruises, I have zero desire to pursue anything.
Not now, that’s for sure. Maybe not fucking ever. My heart still burns for what Rosanne did. Besides, in this environment it would be foolish to care about someone that could die at any second.
Whatever. I'm sure it was fucking nothing and focusing back on the road, I consider our options.
We’re going to need gas but it’s not an emergency yet. The tank in our new ride is half full but I’d like to fill it up while we’re not under duress because the alternative leaves us vulnerable. All of which, Nate, the little shit doesn’t understand.
We haven’t gone far due to the backroads and now we’re traversing the main parts of Molalla, in which I don’t know the population but it’s not as large as the greater cities such as Portland. If I’m not mistaken there’s a rodeo that comes through here at least once a year, although I’ve never been.
Now that we’re within the city limits though, signs of the end dot the landscape with pockets of fire and smoke, abandoned cars and bodies.
Once we reach the highway on the other side, it’ll be a little smoother, although the two-lane roadway may be more congested.
It’s the best option though because from there we can reach Woodburn and the interstate beyond.
I have no idea what that will look like but if we’re lucky, we can get a little farther before night falls. It’s a risk because the sheer number of people trying to flee the city must mean more shit to assess when the time comes.
My skin itches to make some traction though because we haven’t made it that far and with each hour that passes, I worry for the family I haven’t confirmed is still alive.
Of course, as soon as I reach the next intersection we’re greeted with a new horror, and this one sends my stomach to my knees.
Roaming under the sign that reads Molalla High School, hundreds of teenagers fill the parking lot, sporting their school colors of orange and black. The sea of undead faces, attracted by the sputtering engine, turns and at the eerie sight, a shudder rolls through me.
At the next street, I take a left and floor it. The van fishtails and my head wobblies before we rocket down the road. The burgeoning headache turns to a dull roar as I hang another left only to slam on the brakes.
There’s a fucking mob of them and there are so many that I have no option but to turn around.
Although I know it’s a foolish wish, I hope the homes lining the street are empty. However, the only thing that motivates these fuckers is food, so it’s likely they were drawn here for a reason.
The occupants of the van are achingly quiet as I reverse into the nearest driveway before turning back to where we just were. In the rearview mirror I confirm that we’ve caught the attention of the mob and my ass cheeks clench at the sight.
If we don’t find a clear path, we’re going to have to abandon the van. I’d rather not if we don’t have to.
When we reach the next intersection, I make another left, now avoiding two groups of those suckers. The high school students take up the rear in a sea of orange and black. Soon, the two groups will merge.
Fuck me.
When Larry glances at me sideways I mutter, “You know these roads?”
“Nope.”
“Didn’t think so.”
It’s a complete crapshoot but I manage to maneuver through another series of bisecting streets before miraculously ending back up on a main road.
It’s only once I leave the city center behind that my fingers relax around the wheel, and I manage to suck in a full breath again.
How long will that realistically last though?