The Road Trip At The End Box Set

by J N Wood

  Less snow meant I should be going faster, so when I stopped for a break after two hours, I hoped I’d done a fair few miles. Just over four, that was much better. I was happy with that.

  I looked up from the map, and there was a pub in front of me. I couldn’t believe it, a real life actual fucking pub. The Kirkwood Inn and Saloon was about thirty feet away.

  I should really lift my head up more often. Fuck knows what I’ve probably walked past and not noticed.

  They’d have beds, fucking beds. I lifted my face up to the sky in disbelief. If only I’d just walked a little bit further last night, I could have slept in an actual bed and not in that coffin tent.

  I headed towards the pub but stopped after just a few paces. Hidden behind some trees and further back from the pub, was a large wooden building with a sign on the front. On that sign were the words, Kirkwood Cross Country and Snowshoe. I forgot about the pub and ran towards the cross country shop.

  I’m gonna learn how to ski, even if I die doing it.

  I stopped dead when I saw the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. Parked on the other side of the building was some kind of super snow jeep, at least that’s what I hoped it was going to be. It was just peeking out from behind the front steps of the shop, and as I approached it I saw it was called a Jeep Wrangler. The name sounding impressive on its own. I stood in front of it and just stared at it. I almost didn’t dare get any closer in case it was missing an engine, or in case it was just a mirage. I realised I was being ridiculous, so I walked over and tried the driver’s door.

  It was unlocked. I looked around to make sure I wasn’t the victim of some kind of elaborate zombie prank. There weren’t any zombies with hidden cameras, so I thought I’d try something I’d only ever seen work in a movie. I reached up and pulled down the sun visor. A set of keys fell down and landed on the seat.

  Was this a dream? If I wake up in that fucking coffin tent I’m not gonna be happy.

  I climbed in and sat in the driver’s seat. Looking up at the roof of the Jeep, I said, ‘Please Jeep gods, just a quarter of a tank would be fine, I don’t want to be greedy.’

  I turned the key two clicks and the fuel gauge sprung over to the right, it passed the half way point, stopped and bounced back before resting at half way.

  ‘Yes! Thank you Jeep gods!’ I shouted, repeatedly banging my fists on the steering wheel.

  I turned the key all the way, and she purred into life. The purr was more like a stuttering mechanical clunking, but at the time, it sounded like a purr to me. I opened up the road map and found the correct page. I was just staying on the 88, easy enough. Don’t leave the 88 until Stockton.

  Shit, what am I thinking? I’ll be driving back into civilisation in daylight hours.

  Once I was literally out of the woods, I’d need to find somewhere to hold up until it got dark. I needed to believe the tsunami swarm I saw at night was just a random one off event.

  Before I got my hopes up too much, I needed to remember it was all very dependent on whether this Jeep could even get me out of the woods.

  A flash of movement made me look to the pub. A human skeleton dressed in a suit was lifting itself up out of the deep snow that had drifted into the side of the building. Almost as soon as it had stood up to its full height, it was back down in the snow again. Something had fallen directly on top of it. I leaned forward so I could see the first floor veranda running around the building. Another zombie was just tumbling over the railing, and it fell down to the soft snow, this one missing the unfortunate skeleton below.

  Thank fuck I didn’t go in the pub.

  I looked skywards again. ‘Thank you Jeep gods.’

  Two of the fallen zombies stood up, the skeleton was still in the snow, probably crushed by the one that fell on him. They had a look around as if trying to locate where the noise was coming from. The one that was slightly closer to me found me first, and started running, the other soon followed behind him. I couldn’t hear the hissing over the noise of the engine, but their mouths were wide open. The front runner had only gone three or four paces before it fell face first into the snow. Its friend got a little bit further but soon face planted like the other.

  Good, I’m glad they struggle in the snow as much as I do.

  I shifted the gear stick into drive and gently pressed on the accelerator, not wanting to get stuck. I couldn’t move it at first, and wondered if I would have to get out and kill these two idiots, before digging out the snow in front of the wheels.

  But then suddenly I was free. The Jeep managed to get over the ridge of snow built up around it, and we very slowly rolled forwards. Steering the Jeep left, I aimed for the road.

  The two zombies had already regained their feet and fallen three more times by this point, but they were still nowhere near me. I waved goodbye to the struggling idiots as I passed them, and drove away at a very leisurely seven or eight miles per hour. I dialled the heat up to full and looked forward to feeling warm again.

  I pulled a handful of various cables out of my bag, and spent five minutes untangling them as I drove. I only needed two of them, so I wasn’t sure why I’d kept them all. I plugged in my phone and watch to charge, and sat back, enjoying the little bit of warm air that was already being pumped out.

  I caught a glimpse of my own reflection in the rear view mirror. I’d completely forgotten about the bruises. I tilted the mirror down to get a better look. Most of the discolouration had gone, and I was just left with a black eye. The injured side of my face looked a bit bigger, but it was a massive improvement on a few days ago.

  Driving was still an absolute nightmare, but I wasn’t walking and I wasn’t freezing, so I didn’t care. I was starting to get the feeling back in my feet as well. Occasionally, I even managed to get the Jeep up to ten miles per hour, still faster than my legs could take me. I was driving downhill more often than not so the amount of snow on the road was decreasing the further I drove.

  Three hours later, there was only a light layer of snow on the road, even though I was still surrounded by trees. It felt like I was still in the middle of nowhere, but according to the map I’d left the National Forests.

  I had a look to see when I’d next hit civilisation, and saw a town called Barton wasn’t too far away. I needed to find a building to hide on before I got there.

  Sooner than I thought, I started seeing houses through the trees on both sides of the road. Barton should have been a bit further down this road, so I didn’t know where these homes were supposed to belong to. There hadn’t been any more of the dead wandering about, so I wasn’t too worried just yet.

  I slowed down when I saw a petrol station on my right, and pulled into the forecourt. There was nobody about, and the building had a first floor above the shop, the best part being the veranda running across the front of the whole of the first floor. There was a sign hanging from two trees next to a large propane tank.

  I tried to say it in my best southern drawl accent, ‘Tramadore Station. Gas, beer and groceries. A first floor with a view, that’ll do me until nightfall.’

  I should never do that accent in front of an American.

  I parked up next to the two trees with the sign, and opened my door. Just as I was stepping out, I saw the propane tank and climbed back in to the Jeep.

  I’d forgotten all about that.

  I drove to the other end of the building and parked there. Just as I turned the engine off, a few snowflakes landed on the windscreen, melting and slowly running down the glass.

  Please don’t start to snow. I’ve had enough of it to last me a lifetime.

  I got out of the Jeep and slowly crept over to the shop window, not needing to get too close to see the place had been ransacked. After making sure it was empty of zombies, I went in to see if any food had been left.

  One tin of hotdog sausages. Better than nothing.

  If it was possible to hate stairs, then I hated the wooden stairs that led up to the first floor. No matter where I sto
od on them, they creaked and squeaked. Even when I stopped moving they carried on making as much noise as possible. The only positive thing about them was that they were on the outside of the building, so I could get down to the Jeep quickly.

  I finally got to the top, looking around to see if anything had heard me. That’s when I noticed the silence again. Birds were singing to each other in the National Forest but now they were quiet again.

  Surely the zombies can’t have eaten them? Maybe they’ve all flown somewhere safer, like the National Parks.

  At least the snowfall had stopped. A dark and menacing looking cloud was moving away. Hopefully that would be the last of them for a while.

  There were only two rooms on the first floor, both with just one door and one window each. Just three paces from the top of the stairs, and I was at the first window, the curtains were drawn. I took that as a bad sign, so I crept along the wooden floor of the veranda, also incredibly noisy, and tried to look into the second room. The curtains were open slightly but I couldn’t really see much of the room. The slightly open curtains meant I was trying this one first. I pulled my gun out from its holster and tried the door handle, pushing it down. The door slowly creaked open.

  Why was everything so fucking loud around here?

  The smell that hit me was beyond terrible. I didn’t know how I hadn’t smelt it before I opened it. I grabbed the door handle and quickly pulled it closed. This wafted a lot of the disgusting smell back into my face. I spun around and leaned my head out over the railing. My stomach turned and I very painfully dry heaved.

  Please don’t be sick again.

  I staggered back from the railing and walked to the other end of the veranda, desperately trying to hold onto the contents of my stomach. I stayed bent over with my hands on my knees for a long time, wondering whether it was worth trying the other room.

  Ten minutes later and my stomach had finally returned back to its normal and settled state.

  It definitely wasn’t worth trying the other room.

  I walked back down the stairs and got a chair that I’d seen earlier in the shop, taking the chair back upstairs. I sat on the veranda, as far from the smelly death room as I could possibly get.

  I’d been sitting there for a few hours, looking at the photos on my fully charged phone, when I heard what sounded like a horse running on the road.

  I sat up straight and tried to look for it, the trees making it hard to see any distance.

  The noise got progressively louder, until suddenly a deer appeared. I stood up to watch it gracefully running down the middle of the road. Its hooves were softly clip clopping across the tarmac as it ran past, and out of sight.

  Then the hissing was back.

  Fuck! I’d forgotten how horrible that sound was.

  I took a step backwards straight into the chair behind me, I quickly spun around to see it teetering on the edge of the stairs, only just grabbing it before it tumbled all the way down. I stepped behind the wall and out of sight.

  I peered around the edge and saw about twenty of the hissing creatures appear from behind the trees, just like the deer had done only seconds earlier. They were sprinting at a decent speed.

  You better hurry up Mr Deer, or they’ll soon catch you.

  I flinched and ducked behind the building again, as a barrage of gunfire erupted from inside the woods that lined the road. When I looked back around the corner a few seconds later, some of the zombies were lying on the floor, while the ones still on their feet were running towards the sound of guns.

  I tried to see into the shadows of the trees, looking for the shooters. The only things visible were little flashes of light popping up, and disappearing just as quickly.

  In just a matter of seconds, all of the zombies were lying motionless on the floor, and faint smoke trails drifted out from the trees.

  ‘Well done boys! Go get the bodies onto the truck!’ a woman’s voice called out.

  About thirty seconds later, a flatbed truck reversed up to the heap of dead zombies. Five people jumped off the back and three climbed out of the front cab. They quickly paired up, and started to throw the bodies onto the back of the truck. A few minutes later, everybody was back on board, and it drove away. It had all looked very professional.

  ‘What the fuck was that? Fucking zombie clean up crews?’ I whispered.

  After moving my chair around the corner so it was out of sight of the road, I sat myself down. At least that little show had alleviated the boredom slightly. I opened the tin of hot dog sausages and tried to scrape off as much of the brine as I could.

  They were surprisingly tasty.

  The apocalypse appeared to be playing havoc with my taste buds as well as my sleeping patterns.

  While I waited for the sun to go down, I opened up my California road map.

  Stockton looked like a big place, and my road, the CA-88, would take me right through the middle of it.

  I kept my voice down low while I spoke to myself. ‘So…I’ll have to try to drive around it when I hit the outskirts. Once I’m around that city, it doesn’t look too bad, until I get to all the heavily populated places around Mountain View. It should still be night when I get there, so if I’m quiet enough I might be able to slip through. I’ll ditch the Jeep around here,’ I said, pointing at the outskirts of a place called Milpitas.

  ‘And then head in on foot the rest of the way. It’ll be a fifteen mile jog, but hopefully I can get to Beth before the sun comes up.’

  I pulled out the piece of paper Jack had given me. ‘1876 Runningwood Circle. Sounds lovely.’

  The sun had finally set about twenty minutes earlier. It was now just about dark enough to head out, so I made my way down the noisy stairs and back to the Jeep.

  I tried to fuel up, but the pumps were either empty or not working. I looked for a switch, or something to turn it back on, but couldn’t find anything. The zombie killer crew had probably emptied them to fuel their zombie raids.

  Thinking about finally getting to Mountain View was giving me a nervous and excited feeling deep down in my stomach. Fair enough, I had a lot further to travel afterwards, but I’d been thinking about it so much it was gonna be quite an achievement when I got there.

  After thirty minutes of driving, the landscape began to change. The trees were slowly disappearing and being replaced by sparse open countryside. It would have been nice to do the drive during the day, but it was better to stay alive and not see the sights.

  During the last thirty minutes it had really hit home how loud this Jeep was, so I decided to try and find a different vehicle in the first town I passed through. Sutter Hill turned out to be that town.

  I spotted three cars that had been abandoned in front of a carwash. Two of them had their doors open. I pulled over next to them and climbed out, patting the Jeep on its bonnet.

  ‘Thanks Jeep,’ I softly said.

  The closest car still had all its doors closed so I headed towards the one behind it, that one had the driver’s door still open.

  As I was walking past the first car, I paused to look in the back window, and couldn’t see anything inside, just blackness.

  A small pale face slammed against the inside of the window, making me do a little skip and a jump backwards.

  ‘Fucking mother fucking fuck,’ I quickly blurted.

  Its teeth were scraping against the glass as its mouth rapidly opened and closed. Saliva hung from its chin like a slobbering dog.

  I didn’t want to hang around and watch, so I ran to the next car. A shiver ran down my entire body, and I tried to literally shake it off.

  The noisy Jeep must have woken it up.

  I could smell smoke. There must have been a fire around here somewhere.

  One of the other cars was a black Audi. It looked nice. I slowed down my pace as I got closer and tried to peer inside. I couldn’t see a thing, so I walked up to the open door and very slowly poked my head in.

  It smelt okay.

  I had
another look in the back. Empty. I threw my backpack on to the passenger seat and climbed in.

  Fucking hell. No keys.

  I didn’t think this would work for me twice in one day, but I tried anyway, pulling the sun visor down. A few bits of paper fluttered out.

  Leaning over to the passenger side I tried the other sun visor but there was nothing.

  Fuck, I’d quite liked the look of that Audi.

  I reluctantly got out, and headed over to the third car, which turned out to be another Toyota Corolla. It started this journey so I guessed it could finish it. I hoped the keys were in it.

  But no dead people please.

  This time my luck was in. A set of keys still in the ignition, half a tank of petrol, and no dead people. Also, it didn’t literally wake the dead when you turned the engine on.

  All of the roads I’d used since setting off from Sutter Hill had been fine. Apart from the odd abandoned car they looked perfectly normal. That is if normal roads didn’t have any other traffic on them.

  The smell of smoke was getting stronger the closer I got to Stockton, so I assumed it would be a burning inferno. As I got closer it seemed okay, at least the part of it that I could see did.

  I tried to skirt around Stockton by driving through the more industrial side, but I still ended up passing a large residential area. It was terrifyingly quiet, and the only things I saw moving around were bits of rubbish, blowing about in the wind.

  I quickly made it through the towns south of Stockton, and the roads were now surrounded by agricultural fields.

  What will happen to all the fields of crops? Will they just grow and reseed themselves?

  I left the Interstate-5 and joined the Interstate-205. That was when I discovered the source of the smoke I’d been able to smell for the last hour.

  I brought the car to a complete stop outside an enormous cloud of black smoke, completely filling the view in front of me. The darkness of night had become a lot darker.

  It was called Tracy on the road map, but now it was nothing. All the signposts seemed to have melted, giving them a look of a Salvador Dali painting.