The Longest Road (Book 3): The Other Side

by A. S. Thompson

  Satisfied, Lisa smiled and bit her bottom lip. "Thanks, babe."

  "Babe, huh? Stepping things up a notch are we?"

  "I just don't see a need to play it coy, do you?"

  She's right. There are no guarantees these days. No point in games or postponing,Alex thought, before saying, "I couldn't agree more,babe.”

  The word felt good, it felt right.

  Lisa smiled and bit her bottom lip again. She wrapped his arm around her neck and snuggled up close to him.

  She's a keeper. Be honest with her. Well, don't tell her how amazingly irresistible it is when she bites her bottom lip like that, but everything else, he thought. "Hey, Lis?"

  "Ya?"

  "I, I just wanna say thanks for coming with me. I'm glad I didn't have to make the drive alone. I'm not gonna lie, it would be really boring by myself, and I'm happy we get to spend time together."

  She tried to kiss him on the lips, but Alex puckered and pulled back. "Lis, you know you shouldn't. My saliva-"

  She put a finger over his lips. "I know, but I don't care."

  “But I do. I don’t want to infect you or anyone else.”

  Alex frowned, deeply concerned, but he couldn't fault her.She's right, though. What are we living for if we can't love?

  What she said next made Alex's thoughts stop.

  "If only we didn't have to drive, maybe we could fool around...”

  Alex’s slack jaw and raised eyebrows were almost glued in place. He zoned out, following his mind as it lead him down a variety of possibilities. Lucky for him a loud hum of the tires rolling over the rumble lines snapped him back to reality. Quickly, he jerked the wheel left, avoiding driving off the shoulder into the guard railing.

  "Whoa, sorry.”

  Lisa giggled. "Maybe I should save that kind of talk for when you aren't operating machinery on no sleep."

  "Every part of me disagrees and wants you to go on, but it won't be long until we get to Jones' place. From what he described, it should be a huge ass mansion. It'll be nice to sleep on a real bed for a change.”

  "I don't care where I sleep, as long as it's next to you."

  This girl really knows how to get you going. I like where things are heading with her. She's smart, funny, beautiful, and apparently seductively sexy. I can't wait to see where this goes...where this goes? Alex, you're infected! If you don't get to the vaccine, you know full well where this is going to go, and it won't be good or happy or long...damnit man, stay positive! You're a fighter and you fight for her, for Steve, for Cully, Mike, and Bill too!

  Lisa did not notice Alex's white knuckles from gripping the steering wheel tighter. "How much longer? Do you know?"

  "I'm not sure. Let me check," he said, picking up the truck's CB radio. "West, you there? It's Alex, over."

  Seconds later came a reply. "This is West. Everything okay? Over."

  "Everything is fine, just looking for an update. Over."

  "Hold one. Jones is checking the map now. Looks like we are about thirty-five miles out. If the road conditions hold, we should be there in about thirty to forty minutes."

  "Copy that."

  Another voice came over the speakers. "Hey, Alex, it's Travis."

  "Hey, man, what's up?"

  "Just wanna see how you're holding up."

  "I'm fine, bro, thanks for asking. Just looking forward to getting some sleep," Alex replied, letting go of the transmitter.

  He looked over at Lisa who was giving him an innocent, yet, sexy look. He watched her as she mouthed the words "We don't need to sleep right away." The biting of her bottom lip sent a warm shiver through Alex's body, and groin.

  "I know, tell me about it, but I actually meant the other thing.”

  Alex didn't reply right away. "I feel fine. Thanks, Travis."

  "Alright then, keep your head up, hermano. We're gonna get to that facility and we're gonna get you that vaccine."

  "For sure. I appreciate you asking. Don't worry about me. I don't plan on going anywhere anytime soon. Besides, I still need redemption. You caught the biggest deer back at Camp, luck if you ask me."

  "Hah! Someone a little butt-hurt?"

  "Maybe you after I bag a bigger one!"

  "It's all talk ‘til then. Anyway, there are some abandoned cars up ahead. We are going to slow down for a bit. Keep an eye out."

  "Will do. Over and out."

  Alex set the transmitter into its cradle and twisted his body left and right. Each time, there was a set of pops and cracks where his spine adjusted into place. "Hey, Lisa, I've been meaning to ask, how's Jenny doing?"

  "Not very good," she frowned. "Jenny’s a tough little girl, but I can tell she's still hurting from Sarah's death, and it's like Steve won't even acknowledge her existence."

  "Ya, Steve's not in a very good place either."

  "I told her that Steve was just hurting like she was but responding to it in his own way. She seemed to accept that. It's crazy how grown up she is for fourteen, but-"

  "But what?"

  "I'm a little scared.”

  “Scared? Why?”

  “Because Jenny is talking about wanting to learn how to shoot so she can protect the group and kill infected…"

  Just as Lisa said the word, a bloody-faced man leapt from the darkness. Its body crushed against the weight and force of the metal frame. The grill bent and right headlamp shattered as the man's face connected with it, splattering dark brain matter over the hood and windshield. Then, just as fast as it hit, the man’s body spun off, tumbling along the road.

  Lisa yelped, and her nails dug into Alex’s arms like a frightened cat.

  "It's okay. It's over," Alex said, petting the back of her hair. He kissed the top of her head and pulled her close to him. He knew she couldn't hear him, but he continued to repeat the words until she calmed down.

  "This world has made a lot of people grow up faster than they should. It's sad, tragic. No children should watch everyone in their family die, and then their only friends."

  Alex paused and thought about his own journey.Losing everyone at Uncle Tom’s house was bad, but at least you still have Steve...

  "We just need to be there for her, now more than ever," Lisa agreed, nodding, "but she's reaching out to Steve and Steve needs to acknowledge it.”

  "I know, I know."

  "Speaking of, how is Steve doing?” she asked, and then she adjusted the question. "I mean, I'm sure beyond devastated, but I guess I'm wondering if you've spoken with him about everything."

  "I haven't really. Back at Camp, Collin told me that when he approached Steve, Steve flipped out on him and got violent."

  "Violence is an expected response."

  "No, I mean I know it is, but you didn't know Steve before this. Steve was never violent to anyone, especially toward family." Alex sighed and continued, "When we were on the beach before the service, Steve just seemed hopeless and empty. I know we've talked aboutthe hurt...After going through my own shit with Bill, I know what Steve's feeling. Maybe not as deep, but I know he's getting sucked into the darkness, and if we just let him do his thing, he'll reach a point that he won't come back from."

  "I think Jenny is the key,” Lisa said, pondering the situation. “Sarah was their connection, and I feel they can both heal each other, but Steve can’t keep pushing down whatever feelings he has. That'll drive him crazy. Maybe worse, it might even make him do things he normally wouldn't-"

  “You’re not thinking-”

  "No, not suicide. Just that when people think they have nothing left to live for, they walk a line close to death because it's the only time they can feel anything."

  “You’re right. I'll talk with Steve about Jenny; try to get him to talk with her."

  1845 hours

  The Suburban crept to a stop. The engine idled but the driver shut off the headlamps. Sweetie pulled up beside the SUV, and finally Alex arrived with the flatbed truck.

  West, Agents Kim and Clint, Nick, Travis, Charlie, Dylan, Steve,
Eddy, and Jones, converged with weapons in hand to go over a security plan.

  "Alright, we know which house, but we don't know what else is around here or inside,” West began, pointing to a section behind the entrance gate. "Those bodies don't make me feel great about the situation, so here is how I think we should approach-"

  "Sorry to interrupt," Agent Clint began, the tone was anything but apologetic, "but security is my forte. This is how I think we should approach-"

  "Just because you were a glorified security guard doesn't mean you know how to efficiently handle this. Look, I have been in situations like this before. This isn't a Secret Service defend and protect, this is an engagement, an assault and clear. I know what I'm talking about."

  Clint shoved West. "We aren't in the Afghan mountains, scouting out terrorists or in a South American village starting a coup. We are in a suburban setting with unknown threats waiting to take out a designated target. I have protected multiple Presidents because I'm good at what I do. I know how to assess a situation and exterior threats."

  "Enough!" Agent Kim hissed. "Clint, just let the man do his thing. You guys can measure dicks later!"

  Clint scowled and growled, but he didn't press the matter. "Fine, whatever."

  "As I was about to say, Steve, I want you on top of the RV, covering our six. I want your head on a swivel in case we need support fire."

  "Use the night vision we got from Fort Kennedy. It’s in the closet in the back.”

  "Good call, Alex. Go on, Steve, go test it out and get ready. If there are more, bring 'em out. Travis, I want you up on the fountain over there," West ordered, pointing to the inactive stone structure next to a sign that read, "The Hills of Eden."

  "Ten-four."

  "Eddy, I need you to stay back and protect the caravan. Can you do that, or do I need to nominate someone else?"

  "I can do it," the burly man replied. Eddy patted the barrel of a shotgun against his palm, content with his defensive role. "Nothing'll get by me."

  "I don't doubt it. You're the last line of defense, so if shit hits the fan and you need to get out of here, you protect the others-"

  "What about me?" Jones interjected. "Who is going to protect me during this evening death stroll? I already drew you a map, why do you need me to go?"

  West held up a piece of paper drawn of simple lines and virtually no detail. "A first-grader could have been more creative with what you tried to pass for a map."

  "Excuse me," Jones replied with impudence, "but I had this place built two years ago and haven't been back since. I have over fourteen different properties like this in the US and triple that around the world. I own malls, communities, and cities. I've built a worldwide empire and deal with a complex business model comprising countless industries, so excuse me if I don't remember the exact building plans of one place. You just asked me to get you here and I did. Deal with it."

  "These days the details are the difference between life and getting our ass bit off," West growled. “Soexcuse me, but that’s not good enough. You gotta give me more.”

  Jones growled and closed his eyes. "There are about twenty houses in this community. Mine is at the end of the cul-de-sac. Two stories and forty-five hundred square feet, sitting on an acre that overlooks the golf course I had Tiger Woods design...”

  "Jones, shut up," West tried to interrupt, but the billionaire was on full-rant.

  "There's a half-circle driveway leading to the front door, and the entire lot is fenced up. The backyard has a swimming pool that would put Las Vegas casinos to shame. An underground bowling alley and movie theatre, and that’s just a few extras. The Hills of Eden are one of the top, part-time living facilities in the US, and I sold every house before breaking ground. The golf course and resort were all inclusive with the purchase of a home. When the community was built, I wouldn't even entertain an offer less than fifty-million-"

  "Jones, shut the hell up!" West hissed.

  "Which is it? First, you want me to talk and give details, now you want me to shut up! Make up your mind!"

  West slammed his hand over Jones' mouth. "Not one more word.”

  "What is it?" asked Travis.

  Using hand signals, West ordered the others to fan out. His palm covered the pistol on his hip, but then switched to the knife on his belt. Without taking his eyes off the darkness, West pointed to his ear, suggesting the men use quieter means.

  Indeed, they pulled out bats, batons, crowbars, knives, machetes, whatever they had that was sharp or blunt, but most importantly, quieter than a gunshot.

  Then, after tense moment of uncertainty, it happened.

  Out of the dark sprung a crazed man.

  West reacted quickly and dropped low. Using upward momentum, he hurled the Polo shirt-wearing man over his body.

  Polo flew in the air, spinning, before landing and snapping his collar bone. Shoulder sunken, Polo rose as though nothing happened, and his head whipped from side to side as he chose a target.

  The man gargled a mouthful of mixed fluids, and before he had a chance to howl, Eddy delivered a devastating blow with his axe, decapitating Polo.

  The Canadians looked at each other and said in unison, “Paul Bunyan, for sure.”

  West was unable to regroup as two more infected sprinted through the wrought iron gate. He tripped the first one, a security guard, whose face skidded on the asphalt, tearing off a large chunk of its cheek. It managed to push itself up to a pushup position before Agent Kim's expandable baton cratered its skull.

  West spun off the trip, then grabbed the next man's dirty sweatshirt and continued spinning, using the force to hurl him to the others behind.

  Alex used a front ball kick, stunning Sweatshirt in the solar plexus; the man’s upper body flew back and his legs forward, flat-backing him. Alex raised his machete to finish Sweatshirt, but Nick flung his hatchet, embedding the blade into the man's temple.

  "I would have had him!"

  Nick hurried to his hatchet and yanked it out. "Then be quicker."

  "Three more!" West called out, backpedaling.

  The first one branched off and headed for the two Secret Service Agents. Kim raised his baton and swung at the man's head. The target area was missed, but the metal ball smashed into the man's throat. As it fell to the ground, Clint swung his crowbar until the man stopped moving.

  At the same time, the second infected scrambled toward Dylan. Just as the Canadian swung his expandable baton, the man's legs buckled from a blow to the kneecaps, courtesy of Charlie. The man's chin shattered on the concrete, sending teeth exploding through the air.

  "Ah, come on, Charlie," Dylan declared, discouraged, "you made me miss!"

  "Well, feel free to finish him off, eh.”

  "Don't mind if I do," Dylan said, winding up his baton like a hockey stick. "Sundin goes for the slap shot, and..."

  The mock-slap shot was devastating. The ball at the end of the baton went so deep that it stuck inside the man's skull.

  “The Leafs beat the Senators in overtime!”

  The last of the infected, West decided to take on alone. He spun around the woman and sliced her right tendon behind the knee. The monster tripped over her legs but didn't fall. Like a bull, she spun around, enraged, and charged again.

  West waited calmly, spinning the handle of the knife in his hand. Just as the woman came into range, West made an uppercut-type motion and drove the tip of his blade under the woman's soft palate, through the oral cavity and into the brain, killing her.

  "Dude, you totally stole my tendon slicing move," Alex joked, trotting over.

  West snorted. "Been using that one since before you were born."

  "Whatever, Captain cliché-"

  However, a surprise attacker tackled Alex to the ground. He and the snarling woman rolled over one another, until settling near the fountain and headless statue of Aphrodite.

  Pressing his forearm against her throat, Alex evaded all biting. Then, in a fluid motion, he flipped her over and st
raddled her torso. His machete had settled in the gutter, out of reach, so he grabbed the closest weapon.

  He lifted Aphrodite’s stone head and smashed downward. The end result was unsettling as the stone face had sunken and fused into the woman's flesh.

  "Don't worry, guys, I got her," Alex declared facetiously as he brushed the dirt from his clothing.

  "West, what's the plan?" asked Travis.

  "I strongly suggest we leave. The exterior isn't safe, and more likely the same will go for the interior."

  "No, Agent Clint, we need the supplies Jones promised would be in there. Everyone maintain positions.”

  From Sweetie’s rooftop, Steve tossed an extra pair of night vision goggles to West, and for the next thirty-seconds, both men scanned the area.

  "Clear from down here. What about you Steve?"

  "All clear. If anything’s out there, I can’t see ‘em."

  Everyone but Clint seemed appeased. "I still think we should get clear of this place. There are too many unknowns."

  "You never give up territory you've won,” growled West. “Slight change of plans, people. Eddy and Steve, you will stay back. Everyone else, you're with me. We take the Suburban, drive into the community, locate Jones' house, unlock the gate if necessary, and clear the house inside and out. After, I will call back to you, Eddy, and have you and Steve drive up the vehicles. We’ll stock up supplies, lockdown, and post up for the night. Let's move."

  1914 hours

  The feeling at Jones' safe house was anything but safe.

  While the mansion was beautiful and absurdly expensive, it was a strategic nightmare. Of the multiple windows and glass doors, nearly a quarter were cracked or shattered, exposing the interior from almost every side. Leading up to the second story was a double stairwell, forcing both paths to be guarded in the event of a breach. Additionally, the tile roof did not allow for any easy access for spotters and guards, and would increase the risk in the event of an emergency escape.

  The backyard was without any high structures or trees, making it difficult for sentries to have the advantage of elevation. The design of the circular pool offered no direct route to the house. The barbecue area was depressed and enclosed, and would be a death trap for anyone who found themselves in front of that and the infected.