The woman’s face was battered and bruised. Her button-up shirt had been torn open, revealing the lace bra she wore underneath. Her hair was an uncombed mess matted with sweat. She leaned forward, reaching for Serrano.
“Thank God.”
The woman’s strength left her, sending her falling forward from the van. Serrano managed to catch her awkwardly with one arm, saving her before she hit the pavement. He gently lowered her body to the ground.
“Phillip, get Jennifer. Aaron, give her some water.” The two men leapt into action, following his orders quickly as he regarded the children. Swinging his rifle behind his back in an effort to look less intimidating, he tried a smile as he looked at them and gave a slight wave.
“Hi there. I’m Chili. What are your names?”
The little girl moved to hide behind the boy as she stared at Serrano, her eyes filled with fear. The boy smiled.
“Chili. That’s not really your name…”
Serrano smiled more broadly. “Okay, you’re right. It’s my nickname. My real name is Gabriel.”
The boy looked at his mother on the ground. “Is my Mom going to be okay?”
Serrano looked down at the woman. Her wounds were superficial, likely from being roughed up by the thugs he and his men had killed. He nodded. “Yes, she’ll be fine.”
The boy pulled his sister out from behind him, getting her to stand next to him.
“I’m Jason. This is my sister Olivia.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Adelanto, California
The staff twirled deftly in his hands, a blur in the early morning light that shone from over the mountains to the east. He spun it repeatedly, moving it faster and faster, then thrust it outward in one smooth move, spearing a spot in the air six feet in front of his face with precision.
‘Faster,’ Paul said to himself, spinning the staff again. His wrists and forearms were growing tired from the repeated effort, but it was the good kind of pain, the kind associated with muscular development. The bigger issue was his shoulder, which still ached from the dislocation suffered at the hands of the Sheriff during the battle at the lodge. Though the pain was a distraction, he refused to give in to desire to ease up. Sweat dripped from his brow, falling around him in a circle as he sidestepped, spun, and pivoted.
He thrust the staff forward again, withdrew it, spun it over his head, turned 180 degrees, and thrust it forward again. Stepping back, he resumed spinning the staff.
“Where the hell did this come from?”
The staff faltered in his hands, slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground. Looking towards the sound of the voice, Paul saw Daniel standing there, smiling in approval.
“Until that drop, you were handling that staff like an expert,” Daniel said, giving the young man a thumbs up.
“Thanks,” Paul replied, looking downward, his self-consciousness showing again.
“Where did you learn that?” Daniel asked, sipping his cup of coffee. It was just after seven a.m., and though he’d been up since 3:30, waking up early for his 4 o’clock watch, it was only his second cup of the morning.
Paul grinned, lifting the smooth, six foot piece of wood he’d been meticulously sanding during his time in the car with Logan. It was difficult to handle in the front seat, so he’d spent the majority of the time sitting in the rear, holding the piece of wood in his lap while he worked.
“It’s kind of funny, actually. As I told you, my Mom abhors all kinds of violence, including contact sports.”
“Yeah, I remember you telling me that,” Daniel replied, nodding.
“So I joined the marching band.”
“Okay…”
“But I suck at playing an instrument. Like, really bad. I tried the flute, clarinet, trumpet, sax, and even the cymbals. I was terrible, and the Band Instructor felt bad for me, because he could see how much I wanted to be part of the group, so he had me start working with the baton.” He shrugged. “I was actually pretty good, so he decided to make me the band Majorette.”
Daniel cocked his head, looking at Paul quizzically. “But the baton is much smaller than that staff.”
Paul shrugged again. “Yeah, well, being a majorette isn’t actually the coolest thing in high school, so I wasn’t that popular, but the friends I do have are really into medieval live action role playing games. At first, I was using a homemade foam padded sword, but I wasn’t comfortable with it, so I made a staff to fight with - also padded, mind you - and I was really good with it. Then I began to wonder if I could do the same with an actual staff, so I bought a piece of wood at Home Depot and started making it into a weapon.”
“Did your mom know you were making it?”
Paul chuckled. “No, no way. I hid it up high in my closet, above the door. I had to buy some brackets to hold it, but she never found it.”
“Well, all that practice paid off. You look very comfortable with it.”
The young man grinned. “Thanks. I just need to figure out how to keep from dropping it when someone surprises me.”
Daniel came over and placed his hand on the teenager’s right shoulder. He looked pointedly at Paul’s other shoulder. “How’s it feeling?”
Paul nodded. “A little better every day. I’ve been taking Ibuprofen with every meal, and that helps.” He looked at the staff. “Exercise hurts, but in a good way.”
Daniel smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. You really played a big part in the rescue. You know that, right?”
He looked away. “Yeah, right. I got my ass kicked immediately and my shoulder dislocated for my trouble.”
“Bullshit. Every one of us had to do what we did to succeed. Every one of us. If you hadn’t intervened when you did, maybe Halwell would have won the fight, and I was in no shape to help.” Daniel shook his head, then stared at Paul again. “Don’t sell yourself short, Paul. We needed you to win. Just like we need you now.”
Paul looked down again, unable to maintain eye contact. “Thanks. I wish I was in your car, by the way.”
Daniel smiled, patting the young man on his shoulder. “Me, too, buddy. How is riding with Logan, anyway?”
Paul wiped the sweat from his brow and looked towards the little Prius they’d been riding in. “Okay, I guess. He’s just really quiet. I try making conversation, but he doesn’t have much to say, if at all.” He looked back at Daniel. “Something’s bothering him, something that happened recently that still hurts.”
Daniel nodded, sipping his coffee again. When he finished, he nodded towards the picnic table, where they’d set out their meager spread of food. “He’ll talk about it if and when he’s ready. For now, let’s get some food in our stomachs and get ready to get on the road.” He looked at Paul’s matted hair. “You might want to clean up before you get in the car for a full day of driving.”
Paul nodded. “I’ll do that. I found a set of trimmers in the room we’re in, so I was thinking maybe a haircut would help, too. It’s frickin’ hot.”
“Cool. What’re you thinking for a haircut?”
“I was thinking short, kinda like yours?”
Daniel smiled. “Sounds good. Need some help?”
“Please.”
“You got it. Let’s eat, then you get cleaned up, then I’ll cut it before we hit the road.”
An hour later, Serafina, Ashley, and Brenna looked on in shock as Paul emerged from the room with a short, military-style haircut. Gone was the thick mop of hair that had rested atop the young man’s head, replaced by a haircut that showed his youthful, angular face. Combined with the muscle definition he’d gained over the last two weeks and his rapidly clearing skin, he looked like a different person, one confident in himself and comfortable in who he was.
Daniel and Logan emerged moments later, each sporting fresh haircuts as well, though each of theirs was merely a cleaned up version of what they always wore.
They loaded their gear, food, and drinks into the two vehicles and set out on the road, heading north again on th
e 395 highway. Looking at the gas gauge, Daniel reluctantly admitted to himself that though the Prius brought back bad memories of the violent shootout a few miles from their home in San Diego, the little car’s gas-sipping nature was a huge benefit. They’d have to add fuel towards the end of the day, but the fact that they’d made it this far and would likely make it another three hundred plus miles before needing a fill up was remarkably efficient.
Of course, if they needed speed or toughness, they’d be out of luck, but tradeoffs were just that.
Hopefully their journey to San Francisco would be free of conflict.
Just before midday, they reached State Route 58, where they found the junction nearly impassable. Turning left, they had to guide their cars off the road, driving slowly through the gravel and dirt to minimize impacts to the small cars. Driving through the dirt, their vehicles created dust clouds that were easily visible from a distance. On this occasion, luck was on their side, for if they had been noticed, no one cared enough to interfere with their journey.
Once back on the highway, it was slow going again as usual. Unsurprisingly, cars were frequently found in clusters, making it difficult to pass. Those clusters slowed them down dramatically, requiring slow, precise maneuvering while holding their weapons close, ready to respond if anyone or anything attacked.
By one-thirty, the entire group was tired, hungry, and restless. Looking ahead, Daniel saw a sign indicating that a rest stop was only two miles away.
“We’re pulling off up ahead, at the rest stop,” he said, glancing in the rearview mirror.
“Sounds good,” Serafina replied, removing her sunglasses and wiping her eyes with her hand. “I need to stretch my legs.”
“I think we all do,” he offered. “Girls, we’re stopping in a few minutes.”
Isabella looked at him from the rear seat. She was the only one awake. “Okay,” she said, looking over to Ashley and Brenna before looking back at Daniel. “Should I wake them up?”
Daniel nodded. “Yes, please. We’ll need everyone awake when we stop.”
“Okay,” the girl replied before gently nudging first Brenna, waking her, then Ashley, who reluctantly woke as well.
“What’s going on?” Ashley asked, stretching in her seat.
Serafina looked back at her stepdaughter. “We’re gonna stop up ahead for lunch and a break.”
Ashley leaned over to look through the windshield. “What’s up there? I don’t see anything.”
“A rest stop. It won’t be much, but that’s okay. It should be easy to clear, so that will save us time.” Daniel replied.
“Clear?” Isabella asked, looking confused.
Serafina looked back and smiled at the girl. “Daniel and Logan will check things out to make sure it’s safe before we get out and set up for lunch.”
Isabella nodded slowly. “‘Cause there’s bad people out there…”
Daniel nodded slowly. “That’s right, Izzie.” He wanted to tell her that there were good people out there, too, but based on their experiences since the outbreak of the virus, the number of infected (who admittedly weren’t ‘bad’, since it was pretty clear their minds had been affected by the virus) and the number of people who embraced evil far outnumbered the good people they’d met.
Things were bad, no doubt, but those who sought to benefit from it rather than come together to stop the virus from destroying the country they loved were simply the worst of the worst.
Guiding the Prius off the highway, Daniel and Serafina looked at vehicles in the parking lot closely, scrutinizing each of them. There were three semi-trailer trucks, two passenger cars, and one SUV. At first glance, each appeared abandoned, sitting there in the heat of the afternoon sun, covered in dust, but no one was going to assume anything. Daniel swung the Prius to the left, towards the semi-trailer truck parking area, and passed all of the vehicles before stopping with the Prius pointed directly at the exit ramp with nothing in front of it but open road. If there was trouble, leaving wouldn’t be impeded.
Logan pulled up next to him and got out of the car quickly. Tossing the keys to Paul, he said, “Get in the driver’s seat, but keep the engine off. Obviously, if we come running, be ready to start the engine and get us the fuck outta here.”
Paul hesitated, looking at the keys in his hand. “I, uh…”
Logan’s eyebrows raised as he looked at the young man. “What is it?”
“I don’t know how to drive.”
The Combat Medic recoiled slightly in surprise. “What? Seriously?”
“Yeah…”
“Why didn’t you say so? We can fix that. Alright, well, still, do as I said. Worst case, you start it and drive in a straight line,” he pointed down the ramp. “We get a bit of a ways away, and we can switch if necessary.”
Paul nodded, walking around the back end of the car. “Okay.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.”
Logan pulled his AR-15 from the vehicle, ejected the magazine and checked it out of habit, then slapped it back in place before walking over to join Daniel by the other Prius.
Serafina stood next to Daniel on the driver’s side of the vehicle, her eyes scanning the restroom area, then the vehicles in the parking lot.
“Looks quiet,” she offered.
“Yeah, which is a bit weird,” Daniel replied, following her gaze. “Why would so many vehicles be left here? It’s a rest stop, after all.”
The three of them looked over the area, searching for signs of movement. After several minutes of seeing nothing, Daniel shook his head as he reached into the vehicle and withdrew his Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun. “Well, I guess there’s only one way to find out.”
Logan nodded. “Let’s do this. What’s the plan?”
Daniel looked at the man, took a breath, then said, “You’re the one who’s been in combat, so tell me if my plan has any faults. I’m saying we start at the closest vehicle,” he pointed at a nearby semi, “then work outward from there. We’ll handle the restrooms last.” He turned to his wife. “Honey, be ready to bag out if we come running, but also keep an eye in that direction,” he pointed down the exit ramp, “just to be sure no one sneaks up on us.” Turning back to Logan he raised his eyebrows. “Thoughts?”
Logan nodded. “Good plan. I’d do it the same way. Now, if it’s alright with you, let’s get moving. I gotta take a leak.”
Daniel nodded, then leaned over and kissed Serafina on the forehead before bringing his shotgun to bear and starting towards the semi. He walked slowly and quietly, minimizing noise as he approached. The height of the semi made it difficult to see inside the vehicle’s cabin, so they likely wouldn’t be able to see anything until one of them climbed up onto the step that led into the vehicle. Reaching the side of the big semi-trailer, he looked back at Logan and nodded. Logan held the AR-15 up at his shoulder, looking through the sights of the rifle as Daniel climbed up. Daniel would look inside, then if all was clear, throw open the door and stand out of the way. After a ‘clear’ indication from Logan, he’d swing back towards the cabin and verify from up close.
They executed the maneuvers with precision, clearing the first two semis without issue, but also without finding any signs of the drivers, which presented additional questions.
Where were they?
In the restroom areas? In one of the other vehicles? Behind the small structure that held the restrooms? In the low brush of the surrounding area?
Moving from the semis, Daniel led Logan towards one of the passenger cars. The driver’s door was open, and the inside of the vehicle left no question regarding the location of the driver; he sat in the passenger seat, his hands holding his stomach. Underneath his hands, massive amounts of blood had flowed out of him, staining his shirt, pants, the seat, and the carpet on the floorboard.
From the car a wide, thick trail of dried blood led to the men’s restroom.
Though he had no real idea about how to measure the length of time a person had been deceased,
the dried skin of the man told him the body had been there at least two days, probably more. Glancing towards the backseat, he saw reusable shopping bags filled with supplies, including bottled water.
They’d come back for that after they were done clearing the area.
Moving to the next semi, they cleared it the same way, again finding no sign of the driver or any riders. In the sleeping area connected to the cabin Daniel found both men’s and women’s clothes, indicating at least one passenger, but the pair had left the semi behind, whether intentionally or unintentionally.
The SUV provided the clue they’d been looking for: the body of a woman was in the passenger seat, torn and bloody, her face smashed inward below her left eye. Like the man Daniel had found, she appeared to have been dead for some time. In the back seat, a young boy had been killed as well, his neck twisted sideways in an unnatural position.
“Shit,” Daniel muttered, looking at the blood, then at Logan. He started towards the restrooms when he felt Logan’s hand grab him. He looked back at the other man.
“Clear the other car first. Stick to the plan.”
Daniel nodded. “You’re right. Thanks.” In his desire to get to the bottom of what had happened, he’d been ready to risk leaving their backs exposed to threats while approaching the restrooms. Shaking his head, he turned and headed to the remaining car, an older model burgundy colored Nissan Maxima with a roof that had been completely oxidized by the sun. The doors to the vehicle were all closed, and the windows were lightly tinted, but Daniel was able to see enough to determine the car was empty.
Nodding, he turned back to Logan. “Ready?”
“Born ready, sir.”
“Stop calling me ‘sir.’” Daniel kept the shotgun pointed in front of him as he approached the small building. When they were fifty feet away from the two entrances to the building’s facilities, Daniel pulled up short. He motioned for Logan to come closer. Lowering his voice, he gave the man his orders. “I’ll stay here. I want you to check the perimeter of the building. When you come around, extend your gun first so I know it’s you.”
Surviving Rage | Book 3 Page 18