10. Snow, Corpse, Denver #2
Ahead of them, Jay's SUV disappeared briefly into the first swirling veil of white as winter finally caught up to them all.
By midafternoon, the sky had darkened enough that it seemed closer to dusk. The first flakes of snow drifted lazily across the highway, melting the instant they touched the still-warm asphalt. Everyone knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.
Jay lifted a hand out of the driver's side window, signaling for them to pull over.
The two SUVs coasted into the cracked parking lot of what had once been a small tractor dealership.
Half its windows had shattered months ago, and rusting equipment sat scattered across the property, abandoned mid-task by people who never came back for it.
"We're running low again," Jay called as he climbed out, his boots crunching on frost-covered gravel. "Let's top off while we've got the chance."
They moved without speaking. Driving, scavenging, siphoning fuel—the routine was a language they all understood.
Seth grabbed the hose and an empty fuel can from the cargo area.
Cara, bow in hand, scanned the property with practiced patience, her eyes sweeping the area as she took up watch nearby.
Josie stayed close to Layla, who, bundled in so many winter clothes, resembled a tiny marshmallow waddling across the lot.
The smell of old gasoline drifted into the cold air as Seth worked the hose into the tank of an abandoned pickup.
"You'd think after six months there'd be nothing left," Cara muttered.
Jay offered a humorless smile. "There won't be if we keep doing this."
Within minutes, gas flowed through the clear hose into the can. Jay wandered over to where Seth crouched beside the truck.
"You've been awful quiet."
Seth shrugged without looking up. "I talked with Josie on the drive. Turns out we're not headed to Denver—her parents own a small ranch between Denver and Boulder. She figured we'd drop them at the city limits, and she'd manage the rest on her own."
Jay let out a snort. "Not happening."
"My thoughts exactly."
Jay leaned against the truck, rubbing his gloved hands together. His eyes drifted toward the road atlas inside the lead SUV, his brow furrowed in thought. "Maybe we skip Denver entirely at first."
Seth caught his meaning immediately. "Base outside the city."
"Exactly."
A base outside the city would allow them to scout and resupply without walking directly into a million-person graveyard. If the ranch still stood, it offered a secure place to regroup before risking anything downtown.
Jay waved Josie over, and she jogged across the lot, pulling her scarf tighter against the growing wind.
"Everything okay?"
Jay unfolded the atlas across the hood of the truck. "You said your parents live between Denver and Boulder. What are the chances we hole up there first?"
She blinked, caught off guard. "You mean before going into the city?"
"If it's defensible."
"If it's still there," Seth added.
Josie looked down at the map, tracing familiar highways with a gloved finger until it landed on a tiny, almost unnoticeable county road. "It actually makes more sense than I want to admit." She tapped the map. "You take Highway Thirty-Six until here, then a gravel road for about four miles."
Jay studied the route. "Anything around it?"
She shook her head. "Mostly other ranches and open fields. A couple of neighbors, but nothing you'd call close—not unless two miles counts." She smiled at some private memory. "My dad hated people."
Seth gave a slow, understanding nod. "Sounds like he knew what he was doing."
Her smile widened. "The property backs onto rolling hills. One road in, one road out."
A look of relief crossed Jay's face. "Natural choke point."
"Exactly. My dad built most of the fencing himself, and there's a private well on the property. The only real drawback is how open it is."
Jay caught Seth's eye, seeing his own relief mirrored there. A private well alone made the trip worthwhile—no fighting over municipal water, no dependence on infrastructure that had already failed elsewhere.
"Sounds like our first stop," Jay said.
"I think you're making the right call," Josie said, her voice softening. "If they're there, they'll help. My parents aren't the kind to turn people away."
"And if they're not?" Seth asked.
She hesitated, her gaze dropping to the map. "Then at least we'll know."
A heavy silence settled over the hood of the truck. Jay folded the map with slow, deliberate movements. No one spoke the obvious alternative.
Behind them, Layla tugged on Josie's sleeve. "Mommy... I have to pee."
Cara laughed, the tension breaking for a moment. "Well," she said, "that's a problem none of us can solve for you, kiddo."
Josie offered an apologetic smile. "Give me a minute."
She led Layla toward a cluster of pine trees bordering the property, and Cara instinctively shifted to keep them covered. Jay returned to the map. Seth capped another gas can. The wind picked up, and snowflakes fell thicker now, clinging to the cold metal of the abandoned equipment.
A minute later, Layla's tiny voice carried through the trees.
"Mommy?"
"What, sweetheart?"
"There are people in the trees."
Josie answered absently, still helping with the girl's coat. "Probably squirrels, baby."
"No..." Layla sounded genuinely confused, her small voice dropping. "The people are looking at us."
Seth's head snapped toward the treeline. Cara had already raised her bow, an arrow nocked before anyone spoke. Jay slowly lifted his binoculars.
"What did you say?" Josie asked, her voice suddenly tight.
Layla pointed deeper into the pines. "See?"
For half a second, Seth saw nothing but trunks, shadows, and falling snow. Then—movement. A face, there and gone. Another figure slipped behind a tree fifty yards farther back, someone wearing camouflage.
They were still. Too still for the infected. Watching.
"Shit. How many?" Seth snapped.
"I've got three!" Cara called, as she tracked the treeline.
Jay steadied the binoculars against the wind. "Five..." His voice hardened. "No. Six."
More shapes appeared between the trees, none of them moving toward the group. They simply stood there in the falling snow, silent and patient, and that stillness carried more menace than any charge would have.
One man stood slightly apart from the others, his eyes locked on Josie and Layla. Josie was already backing away, pulling the girl with her.
Seth's pulse hammered as he cataloged what he could see. "They're armed." Rifles. At least one shotgun. One of them carried a crossbow.
Josie scooped Layla into her arms without a word.
"Get in the truck," Seth ordered. "Now."
She didn't argue. She ran.
The man fixated on Josie didn't even flinch as she ran, his focus absolute.
"They could've shot us already," Cara whispered, never lowering her bow.
"They're sizing us up," Seth answered.
Jay lowered the binoculars, his jaw set. "I don't like this."
A bearded man in a military jacket stepped into a small gap between the trees and slowly raised one hand.
Not a wave. A signal.
Immediately, two more figures spread wider through the woods, moving with the deliberate coordination of people who had done this before.
"They're flanking," Seth said. "Move!"
Fuel cans stood abandoned, and the siphon hose hit the pavement, still dripping.
Jay sprinted for the lead SUV while Cara bounded into the passenger seat beside him.
Seth yanked open his driver's door just as Josie climbed in with Layla clutched tightly against her chest, the girl's face buried in her mother's scarf.
Doors slammed. Engines roared to life.
The first rifle shot echoed through the afternoon. A round sparked off the pavement just a foot from Seth's door, and he instinctively flinched, shoving Josie's head down as he slammed the door shut.
"Go!" Jay shouted over the radio.
Tires spun against icy pavement before finally catching, and both SUVs shot back toward the highway just as three armed strangers burst from the tree line behind them, weapons raised, shouting words lost beneath the engines.
None of them looked infected.
That realization settled cold and heavy in Seth's stomach as the dealership shrank in his mirror.
People. And unlike the dead, people could think.