by Bowman, Dave
“What are you waiting for, Josh?” Angie’s harsh voice jolted him. “Break out the food!”
Josh jumped into action. Somehow he had forgotten that there were things to eat now. He dug into his backpack that he had filled at the hotel and found some candy bars. He passed a couple up front and tore into one himself.
The sugar hit his bloodstream and he felt immediately better. He scarfed down the candy, then tore open a bag of trail mix, cramming big handfuls in his mouth before passing the bag up front.
“We’ve got a lot of cans of soup, don’t we?” Angie asked, smiling as she hunched over the steering wheel. “Maybe we could make a fire in the woods somewhere and heat a can up. Doesn’t that sound good – hot soup?”
“Sure does,” Patrick agreed. “But first we’ve gotta get to where they won’t find us. We don’t want them tracking us down, do we?”
“Of course not, honey lips,” Angie said in a voice so sweet it made Josh feel nauseous. She leaned over for another kiss, almost losing control of the truck in the process, but straightening out on the gravel road just in time.
Josh looked out the window. Now that he had food in his system, he could think a little more clearly.
He made a silent vow to himself. He was going to find a way to break free of Patrick and Angie the first chance he got.
“Matt, you stay here,” Nick said as he and Charlie walked out to the Ford.
“Let me go, too,” Matt pleaded.
“I need you here to help pack up whatever’s left. We have to leave as soon as we get the truck back,” Nick said. “We need people packing and people on watch.”
“But don’t you need another gun for this mission?” Matt said. “Charlie will be driving.”
Nick looked at his nephew. He hated to put the kid at risk, but after all, it was Matt’s family’s truck. Matt had taken so many risks to get out west. Nick couldn’t treat him like a child anymore.
“Get in,” he said. “But stay down as much as you can.”
They got in the Ford and drove through the parking lot. Nick nodded at Jessa as they drove past. He knew that she’d keep a good watch on the place while they were gone.
Charlie drove as fast as he could while keeping the truck in control. They headed north, in the direction the Silverado had disappeared.
Nick knew that the thieves had already put several miles in between them. His only hope was that the thieves’ ignorance would cause them to make a bad enough decision. With a little luck, he’d catch up to them.
They had to get their food and that truck back. Their survival depended on it.
Liz ran down the central hall of the hotel. She entered her own room, heading straight for the closet. She slid the door open and saw Mia crouched inside.
Mia had dutifully followed protocol and hid when she heard shooting. She knew to stay out of sight until a member of the group went to find her.
The girl threw her arms around Liz’s neck, and Liz could feel her trembling in fear.
“It’s all right,” Liz said soothingly. “No one’s hurt.”
She brushed a strand of dark brown hair out of Mia’s eyes. The child’s big eyes looked up at her.
“Who was shooting?”
There was no sugarcoating the situation, so Liz told her straight. “Those three people from earlier stole Nick’s truck. They took most of our food, and Trina’s rifle, plus all the gear from the truck. And now the guys are off trying to get it back.”
Mia looked down and fidgeted nervously. “I wish they weren’t doing that. It sounds dangerous.”
Liz had to agree. She hadn’t liked the idea from the beginning. “I know, but all we can do now is hope for the best. As soon as they get back, we’re going to leave. Back to New Mexico. Then everything will be better, okay?”
Mia nodded. “So we need to pack up?”
“Yep,” Liz said. “I’m going to be on watch outside the kitchen, just in case anything bad happens. You and Trina can be in charge of packing up.”
“What about Bethany?” Mia asked.
Liz stood up. “Follow me,” she said, leading Mia out the room and to Bethany’s door.
Liz knocked quietly, and when there was no response, she pushed the door open. Mia and Liz stepped inside just far enough to see Bethany sleeping soundly on her side, her belly propped up with a pillow.
They left her to slumber and closed the door.
Mia giggled. “Bethany could sleep through anything.”
“I think you’re right,” Liz said. “We’ll let her sleep for now. Okay, you know what to do?”
Mia nodded. “Yep.”
“Good girl,” Liz said, and gave Mia one last squeeze before bounding off to her guard post.
Mia pondered how to begin packing. Knowing that space was limited, she decided to start with the most important things first.
She headed for the library.
10
“Where are you, you little bastards?”
Charlie muttered under his breath as he drove through the dark night. The roads were steep and windy, and Charlie was pushing the speed to the limits of safety on the mountains roads. He slowed down just a little on each bend.
Nick kept an eye on the gas tank. The high speed was using up fuel faster than normal. It was another risk they’d have to take, though. Recovering the food was worth a little fuel.
After a few minutes, they came to an intersection.
“Which way?” Charlie asked as he rapidly approached it. The cross street was no larger than the road they were on.
“They don’t have any sort of map. They don’t want to get any more lost than they already are, so they would’ve gone straight,” Nick said.
“Straight it is,” Charlie said, picking up even more speed.
Nick hoped they were right.
“Are there any more sour cream and onion chips?” Angie asked, taking her eyes off the road yet again.
“Let me check,” Patrick said, taking the backpack from Josh and digging through it.
Josh was getting nervous again. He turned around to look behind them. Still nothing back there.
“Will you quit worrying?” Patrick said. “No one’s following us.”
“Don’t you think you should drive faster, Angie?” Josh asked. “It feels like we’re slowing down.”
“I think her speed is just right,” Patrick said. “We don’t want to mess up this shiny new truck we got on all these potholes out here.”
“But don’t you think they could catch up to us at this speed?” Josh asked shakily.
“Dude, they’re not following us,” Patrick said confidently. “Did you see the way I was shooting at them? They’re not gonna want to mess with us after that. Stop freaking out.”
“Well, where are we going, anyway?” Josh asked. “Don’t you want to try to find the road that guy told us about?”
“Nah,” Patrick said, catching some popcorn he tossed in the air with his mouth. “We’re not following that guy’s directions. They’d probably get us lost anyway. We’re doing good on gas. We’ll find a way out of these peaks before long.”
Josh turned around again. This time, something was there.
“We found them,” Charlie said as the Silverado’s lights came into view. He clenched the steering wheel tightly.
Charlie saw the tail lights just a split second before Nick. Charlie stepped on the gas, lowering himself slightly in his seat.
They put in ear protection that Nick had had the foresight to bring. None of them wanted any more hearing loss from shooting inside vehicles.
Nick leaned his rifle out the window, and he heard Matt doing the same thing behind him on the opposite side.
Nick took a breath, switched off the safety, and aimed at the passenger with the rifle. He squeezed the trigger.
But the Silverado picked up speed suddenly, and the shot went wide. Charlie accelerated, gaining on the truck. Matt fired and missed. Nick's shots hit the body and rear window of the S
ilverado, but their target didn't slow down.
Patrick returned fire, leaning his body far out the window and aiming at Nick. His shots weren’t far off base, and they sent Nick inside the cab to duck for cover and missing his chance at a clear shot.
Nick forced himself back up and aimed for Patrick again, but before he could even squeeze the trigger, the windshield of the F-150 was hit. The bullet penetrated the glass, leaving a hole in the windshield on the driver’s side. The shot missed Charlie, but it had come close.
Nick and Matt fired off a few more rounds, but the fire was returned quickly.
Suddenly, Charlie slammed on the brakes. He pounded the steering wheel with his fist.
“What are you doing?” Matt yelled from the backseat. “Keep going!”
“I can’t see!” Charlie exclaimed. “The windshield is all cracked up.”
He was right. Patrick’s rounds had penetrated the glass in several places. Each two-inch hole was surrounded by a web of cracked, opaque glass. It was almost impossible to see. Driving at high speeds with minimal visibility meant they could easily drive off a curve in the road and fall to their death in the canyon below.
They watched the tail lights of the Silverado get farther away. Patrick had stopped shooting at them. Nick leaned out the window and fired a few more rounds, aiming at the Silverado’s tires, but they were too far away.
“Damn it!” Matt yelled, hitting the safety on his gun and kicking the floorboard. “You should have kept going, Charlie.”
“Easy, Matt,” Nick said. “We were almost hit multiple times.”
The Silverado was gone. Nick stowed his rifle and swiveled around in his seat. He ran his fingers over several bullet holes on his seat and head restraint. “We came close to being shot and killed. Charlie was right to stop. Look at this windshield. The glass is all cracked. He couldn’t drive blind.”
“And look at these bullet holes,” Charlie said, pointing at the windshield. “This one almost clipped me. I couldn't keep going like this.”
“So this was all for nothing,” Matt said bitterly. “They just got away with it.”
Charlie groaned. “And now we have a truck we can’t see out of.” He threw his head back against the headrest in frustration. “I guess we should’ve just cut our losses and not come out here.”
The three of them stepped out of the truck to survey the damage. Nick and Charlie shook the tiny pieces of broken glass from their clothes.
Nick sighed. “I should’ve known better. It was stupid to think we could pull this off. I guess this is what happens when you let your emotions get in the way.” He thought of the fiery rage that had come over him when they discovered the theft.
“Well, at least we tried,” Charlie said, rubbing his temples. “We couldn’t just let them take it without a fight, I guess. I just wish my ears weren’t ringing like this.”
“Same here,” Matt said. “I can’t imagine what it would be like without the earplugs.”
The three of them stared at the damaged windshield. It was cracked in multiple areas, but aside from the bullet holes, intact.
“How are we going to drive the truck like this?” Matt asked.
“I guess we’ll have to go real slow,” Charlie said, sighing.
Matt took a step closer to the truck. “Can’t we bust out the windshield and drive without one so we can see?”
“Isn’t that pretty hard to do?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, it's not easy. Windshields are double layers of laminated glass,” Nick said. “That’s why it shatters like this but doesn’t fly apart like in the movies. The broken pieces of glass are stuck to the vinyl lining. You can’t break a windshield as easily as a side window.”
“What about just removing the whole thing?” Charlie asked.
Nick looked at the rubber windshield gasket. “I guess we could try. I think I still have some tools they didn't steal back at the hotel. I could probably cut around this gasket. I'll need your help lifting it out, Matt.”
“That sounds pretty cool,” Matt admitted begrudgingly.
“But it means we have to drive back to the hotel like this,” Charlie groaned.
“Yeah,” Nick said. “Give me the keys. I’ll drive. You need to be resting that shoulder, anyway.”
Nick drove them back to the hotel at half the speed they had traveled at earlier. It was nerve-racking maneuvering on the dark back roads with limited visibility. They were relieved to finally make it back. The sun had just begun to rise.
Liz, Trina, and Jessa met them at the kitchen entrance of the hotel with shocked looks on their faces.
Charlie threw his good hand up in exasperation as he stepped out of the pickup. “We tried.”
“I knew it was a bad idea to go after those kids,” Trina said. “Now we’re worse off than before. Not only did we lose the Silverado and the food, but the Ford is all shot up.”
“I’m just glad none of you got hurt,” Liz said as she looked the guys over.
Nick glanced at Jessa. Her blonde hair was pulled back in its usual ponytail, her hands stuffed in the pockets of her canvas jacket. Her blue eyes looked tired, but clear and determined as ever. She didn’t say anything for a while, but he could see the worry in her face as she looked at the Ford windshield.
“How does this thing drive now?” she asked finally, looking up at Nick.
“It drives fine, but as you can see, a lot of the windshield is cracked now,” he said. “Makes it pretty hard to see that way.”
Nick stepped inside the kitchen for a moment, then returned with safety goggles, canvas gloves, and his toolbox. At least the thieves hadn’t swiped those things, too. He opened the driver's side door of the F-150 and got in.
“Where are you going now?” Trina asked.
“To the far edge of the parking lot,” Nick said. “Matt and I are going to remove the windshield. The visibility is too low to drive like this.”
Matt got in the passenger's side.
“I need you all to start cleaning the other guns,” he said as he looked at the others. “And wake Bethany up. We need to be driving out of here in an hour.”
11
Daniel looked down into the water well outside the adobe house. It was a simple, hand-dug affair, matching the primitive implements that seemed to have been the norm for the people of this town. It had a large plastic cover to keep dust and critters out, and it used a bucket and a pulley system to draw the water up.
Daniel and his mother had nearly finished the water they brought with them. Sooner or later, they would have to drink from this well. But he didn’t know if he could trust the water.
He drew a bucket up and sniffed at the water. It smelled fine. He cupped some water in his hand. It looked fine, too. But he wasn’t sure he wanted to drink it.
He set the bucket on the edge of the well. He decided to see if there were any other options for water available in the area. If there weren’t, he’d be forced to boil and consume the well water from the house where he and his mother stayed.
He’d already been around the woods, looking for any streams or springs. There was very little groundwater in the area. He’d have to see what the other houses had in the way of water supplies.
His mother’s condition had not changed. Anne was still fatigued, but she wasn’t showing any of the telltale signs of the Hosta virus. He took that as a good sign and prayed each day that her health would improve.
Daniel crossed the main road in the silent town. There couldn’t have been more than one hundred inhabitants in the community before Hosta. He assumed they had all died or fled.
Beat-up trucks and cars sat rusting in front of old earthen homes. He wondered how these people had made a living before everything fell apart. No one had gardened or kept animals. There were no businesses, gas stations, or even a schoolhouse. Perhaps the ones with jobs had all driven to a bigger town nearby to work, he thought to himself. They must have carpooled, since many homes had no vehicle in front.
He tried the next house that seemed to have no water well outside. This time, the door was open. He walked inside and looked around. Similar to the house where his mother now rested, it was empty of food, water, and corpses. Maybe some of these houses had been abandoned for a long time?
Daniel emerged back out into the sunny morning, pushing a lock of raven-black hair out of his face and crossing his arms in front of his chest. He was overdue a haircut, he noted. He’d have to ask his mother to cut his hair when she felt better.
As he stood in the empty street, he began to have the distinct feeling that someone was watching him.
He turned around, expecting to see someone in the road, but it was empty. He looked in every direction, scanning up and down the road and sweeping his gaze over the windows of the houses. He saw no one. But he couldn’t shake that feeling.
Though the sun was burning off the cold of the early morning, Daniel felt a chill. He shivered and looked around once again before heading back to check on his mother.
He found her just as he had left her – sleeping soundly in the bed. He closed the bedroom door quietly and went back outside.
The streets were just as empty as they had been the past three days, but Daniel no longer felt alone in the town. He felt like his every move was being watched carefully.
There could have been a Hosta survivor or two in this area. It seemed a little unlikely, though, since Daniel hadn’t heard anyone else the previous days.
He decided it wasn’t a threat. Daniel and Anne had already been in the town three days, and there had been no confrontation with anyone. If someone else was there, they were probably just nervous to see a new person on the street and were afraid to make contact with Daniel. But Daniel figured it was more likely that the stress was getting to him. It was playing tricks on his brain. He decided to ignore the strange feeling of being watched.