Road of Stars

by Ariel Bonin

  From next to Andrew, Lindsey let out a moan-like cry. He tugged her close and rubbed a consoling hand over her back. Like the horde incident at the school, he wondered how the events had worked out in his favor. Why him? Why was he allowed to hold Lindsey right now when Charlie could not do the same with the woman he loved?

  That could have been Lindsey.

  For every sensible reason it should have been. Nadie had been sitting in what was always Lindsey's seat, but on a whim Andrew decided to switch vehicles. He saw a vision of himself holding a motionless Lindsey on the cold ground and the thought sent an acute pain through his chest.

  A hint of panic showed on Charlie's face as he gently shook Nadie, and when she didn't respond, a little rougher.

  "Hey, come on, Nadie," he ground out desperately. "Come on, open your eyes…"

  The dreaded truth began to take a hold of Charlie. Andrew felt helpless, like an intrusive spectator, as the man's world crumbled. With a pained expression, Charlie sagged over the dead woman, moving to hide his face in her chest. Seeing his shoulder's shake from inaudible sobs was Andrew's undoing. He attempted to swallow his grief, but Charlie was the brother he never had. They couldn't stand to see the other hurting.

  It didn't take long for Andrew to become aware of the rest of the group. Caren looked on in tears, mourning for the woman who had become a mother figure to them. Darius knelt behind Ana, his hands on her shoulders. Nicholas, Kat and Tyler stood nearby and hung their heads in sadness.

  Feeling numb, Andrew reached for Zoey as she crawled out of the car with her brother in tow. He hugged his children, all the while thanking his lucky stars that they were unharmed.

  "What are we gonna do?" Zoey asked, passing over Jacob.

  Andrew spoke quietly as the whining infant nestled into him. "We'll give Charlie and Ana however much time they need, and then we'll bury her."

  "Is she going to come back?" The girl was clearly worried that Nadie was going to turn and attack Charlie or Ana.

  "No," Andrew answered. He didn't want to say the next words aloud, because it would make everything real, but he knew he had to. "She died from a head injury on impact."

  Zoey glanced past her father and winced. "Does Lindsey have a head injury?"

  Dammit. In his reeling state, Andrew had left her bleeding on the side of the road. He spun around, still holding Jacob, and saw that Robert was attending to her. He approached them and asked, "How does it look?"

  Robert had Lindsey pull back the folded bandana as he inspected along her hairline.

  Suddenly, Lindsey flinched. "Right there," she said, her voice still thick with heartache.

  Robert looked closely as Lindsey scrunched up her face in pain.

  "That baby needs stitches. Looks like a piece of glass got her real good," the former-medic stated, motioning for Lindsey to cover the wound again. "I'll get my bag."

  Andrew thanked Robert and leveled his gaze with Lindsey's. "I'll be back in a minute. You okay?"

  She nodded and it appeared like she was trying to smile, but simply couldn't. "I'm alive, aren't I?"

  Andrew sighed, his lips tightening at the corners. Very softly, he said, "Yeah…yeah, you are." And I'm so goddamn thankful for it.

  All of a sudden, Caren rushed over to him. "Andrew, give me Jacob."

  Unsure as to what was happening, he did as she asked. "What's goin' on?"

  She motioned to the side with her head and he looked behind her. Charlie was standing up, wiping furiously at his red eyes with a worn shirt sleeve. He started to circle the crumpled car and Andrew realized he was going for the wrecked truck—and whoever was inside. Nicholas and Tyler were already there, checking the other vehicle for survivors and a reason for the crash. Andrew hurried after Charlie, but the man was moving with purpose.

  "Charlie…" Andrew urged, but got no response. The rancher withdrew his blade and pushed past Nicholas, who just let him go. Andrew almost tried to stop Charlie when he saw the driver shifting around, but suddenly recognized that the man had become a turner. A seatbelt held the stranger in place as he reached out the open window with eager arms. Charlie tore open the truck door and rammed his knife into the turner's forehead. Fresh blood spurted from the puncture as Charlie stepped back—but he didn't stop there. Reaching over the driver's body, Charlie unsnapped the seatbelt and dragged out the corpse, letting it fall heavily onto the ground below.

  Andrew watched as Charlie sunk his blade into the dead man's chest over and over, perhaps trying to portray how his own heart felt in this moment. Andrew glanced back at Zoey and was glad she wasn't watching. Murky red gore covered Charlie, the mess growing with every slash.

  Feeling like he couldn't watch for another second, Andrew said carefully, "Charlie, I know you're upset. You have every reason to be, but you gotta stop. He's dead, okay?" When the bloodshed didn't cease, he continued. "Hey, I know what you're going through, man. We all do. But you've got to calm down..."

  Andrew grabbed for Charlie's opposite arm. On reflex, the man swung his knife and Andrew recoiled, holding his hands up to show that he meant no harm. Charlie quickly realized what he'd done and dropped the knife. He fell back, catching himself on the pavement with one hand, and then stumbled to his feet.

  Andrew initially thought Charlie would just collapse or walk off to be alone, but the man understood that they had to keep moving—they couldn't afford to fall apart. That much was clear when Charlie snatched a shovel from his truck and trekked off to the edge of the woods.

  Deciding not to follow, Andrew looked back at the wreck before him. A deceased passenger still occupied the truck's front seat, but there were no airbags, so reanimation was definitely not an option there. He wondered why the driver had turned, though. His best guess could also have been the cause of the accident—possibly the driver was infected or died from a natural cause, like a heart attack. Whatever happened, the man was lucky to be dead before Charlie got to him.

  _____

  Lindsey stared up at the widespread blanket of twinkling stars with mystical swirls of the Milky Way spun around them. The night sky was positively breathtaking in these end times—probably one of the only good things to come from it.

  Charlie sighed from nearby and Lindsey glanced at the man out of the corner of her eye. The group was holed up in an old farmhouse about two hundred yards from where the crash occurred. It was not as nice as Charlie's house, but would do for the night. For obvious reasons, Charlie had volunteered to take watch, so Lindsey joined him. The accident played out in her mind on repeat and she knew sleeping would be impossible. She also figured that the companionship wouldn't hurt—she didn't want Charlie to sit alone in the dark.

  Lindsey's weary gaze wandered down the shadowy road, her place on the front porch giving them a good vantage point, but trees still blocked her view of the totaled sedan. In her mind's eye she pictured Nadie's final resting place. Charlie had dug a hole in front of a small field of goldenrod, the bright flowers still holding on strong so late in the season, like Nadie herself—the woman with a heart of gold.

  Charlie had been quiet since they'd set foot on the porch, and the silence ate away at Lindsey. She looked up at the stars once again and spoke.

  "Before all this, I remember looking at the stars and feeling…hopeful. I thought of all the different people in the world and what they were doing at that very moment—some sleeping safe in their beds, some getting up for work on the other side of the world and those who were simply looking at the same stars as me. I'd make wishes, think of my dreams, my greatest desires."

  She stopped as she imagined all the wishes she'd made for a child of her own. Swallowing the painful memories, she resumed her chatter, not even sure if Charlie was listening.

  "Now, it's just…nothingness. I see nothing. Just emptiness—empty beds, empty offices, and the only other people looking at the stars are trying to kill us—the living and the dead."

  A flicker of orange appeared in the darkness as Charlie lit a cigar
ette. Faint moonlight outlined his face and Lindsey could just make out that he was offering her one as well. Hesitating, she recalled her short bout of social smoking in college. Graduation night was the last time she'd had one. Tonight she had nothing to celebrate, but the idea of a smoke to relieve a fraction of the strain she was feeling sounded really good.

  Placing the cigarette between her lips, she leaned in to let Charlie light it. She inhaled and had to hold back a cough. The smoke burned her lungs, but she didn't care—it meant she was still alive to feel something.

  Charlie's low, gravelly voice took on an unusual softness as he said, "You were with her… Was it instant? Did she feel any pain?"

  Lindsey thought she had no more tears to shed, but the telltale lump in her throat made her think otherwise. "She didn't feel anything. I came to right after…and she was already gone." Drawing off the cigarette, Lindsey longed to extinguish the dull ache in her chest.

  "Did she say anything to you? Like—" Charlie struggled, breathing sharply through his nose. "Like, right before?"

  Lindsey strained to recall their last moment and the realization of Nadie's final words was like a sledgehammer against her brittle heart. Smiling through the sadness, Lindsey told him what the woman said during her last few seconds on earth.

  "Her kids. She talked about her kids."

  She waited for his reaction, fearing some kind of emotional breakdown—but Charlie wasn't the type. He merely nodded, his eyes cast down. He probably had the same feelings as her.

  At least they're together now.

  Lindsey reached the end of her cigarette and dropped it onto the steps to crush it under her boot. Not too long after, Charlie copied her movements and said, "She was the only woman that made me feel somethin'… Might've been love." His heartbreaking words lingered in the air like the biting aroma of their cigarette smoke. Very quietly, he directed toward Lindsey, "I'm sorry 'bout your husband. If this is anythin' close to what you felt—what you feel—then I'm sorry."

  Lindsey turned her head to smile at him sadly.

  "But I'm glad you found Andy," he added, giving her the sweetest look she could have imagined on him.

  With warmth rolling over the cold in her chest, she responded, "Me, too."

  Later in the evening, when the night was at its darkest, Charlie returned from his perimeter check. He placed his rifle on the porch and took up his seat next to Lindsey on the steps. Staring straight ahead, he asked her one thing: "Will you ride with me tomorrow?"

  Perplexed by his question, it took Lindsey a moment to answer—but then it hit her. He didn't want to ride on his motorcycle alone. It would make the departed woman's absence too great, too noticeable. Lindsey felt honored that he'd asked her to be the one—she felt honored that he had even asked. He had enough pride to omit why, but he'd asked, and that was enough.

  "Yeah, I will."

  _____

  Even before the sun breached the horizon, Andrew was awake—they all were. He held his son close as he sat down at the dusty dining-room table. They had slightly more food than before, but he still chose a meager protein bar. Rationing would be the key to get them by until they reached New Canaan. Jacob drank his usual bottle of formula. Andrew smiled down at his precious face as he gulped greedily.

  I know how you feel, Andrew thought with a sigh.

  Lindsey and Charlie entered the room, their cheeks rosy from the cool temperature outside. The woman stopped next to Andrew and leaned in for a kiss. He pressed his lips to hers, all the while appreciating the fact that he still could.

  When she stepped back, he asked in a hushed voice, "How did it go?"

  "About as good as to be expected," she whispered, and pulled out a creaky chair.

  Andrew reached out to touch Lindsey's forehead just below her stitches. "How's your head?"

  She smiled at his concern and shrugged. "It hurts sometimes, but I'm okay."

  Nicholas sat across from them. He finished his minute breakfast and tossed the wrapper onto the table. "I hate to bring this up, but we're a vehicle short. I can take a few people in my Humvee. We'll have to reorganize the supplies, though."

  "I'm riding with Charlie today," Lindsey said casually as she rummaged through the food box.

  Andrew gave her a surprised look, but she paid no attention. While he expected to feel a stab of jealousy toward the announcement, he knew he wouldn't. If she was to occupy a motorcycle with any other man, he would have some choice words to express, but it was Charlie. She was doing the other man a favor and Andrew admired her for it.

  Andrew and Lindsey didn't know that Nicholas was watching the exchange of information, anticipating some kind of conflict. When it didn't come, he continued on. "Andrew, why don't you and the kids ride with me? It'd be safer than the truck."

  "Tyler and I will sit in the back," Kat offered. "That way you can sit in the front, Andrew."

  As the former captain thanked her, Nicholas stood. "Then it's settled. We leave in ten."

  Chapter 11

  The air was much warmer today, probably due to the fact that they were only a few days from the Alabama-Florida border. The sun felt especially hot as it beat down onto the Humvee's roof. Andrew shrugged off his jacket and stuck it down by his feet. He focused his gaze ahead, while moving to sit back in his seat. Lindsey and Charlie were on the motorcycle directly in front of their vehicle. He honestly had no problem with the arrangement. The only thing he'd asked of Lindsey was that she wear a helmet—especially after yesterday—and she didn't contest. He watched as her head moved back and forth, her low ponytail sticking out the bottom of the half helmet.

  Oh, yesterday.

  Andrew couldn't take many more days like that. They'd already lost so much: countless loved ones, their homes…their innocence. Nothing came for free—there was always a price. As more time passed, that price grew. At some point you had to ask yourself: Is it worth it?

  Noticing the sign for an intersection up ahead, Andrew pulled a map from the compartment inside his door. He unfolded the crinkly paper and found their current location. The road they were on would soon curve east, but they needed to go west. There looked to be a road not far from here that would connect them with the appropriate route. Trouble was it didn't have a name on the map. Andrew could still find it, but that lack of information always made him a little uneasy. These roads were unfamiliar to everyone in their group, making every move a gamble.

  "Nicholas, take the next right after this intersection," he instructed.

  _____

  Lindsey inhaled the scent of crisp leaves and damp pine needles as the wind blew over her warm face. She took in their surroundings, admiring the natural beauty of Mother Nature and how she was reclaiming what was always hers. They passed a church completely overgrown with kudzu, a fast-growing vine, easily swallowing much of Alabama. The only way Lindsey knew it was a church was from the sign by the road. The remaining plastic letters read: And then many will fall away and betray one another and hate one another. And many false prophets will arise and lead many astray. And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold.

  But he that shall endure unto the end shall be saved.

  Lindsey remembered the end of the bible verse, thanks to a woman from her group the year before. Madeline had been elderly and deeply religious. After a devastating turner bite rendered her a ticking time bomb, Lindsey had sat with her until the throbbing wound became too much. After Madeline whispered these final words to her, she sunk her knife into the base of the woman's skull, extinguishing the pain in an instant.

  A high-pitched noise rose above the rumble of Charlie's motorcycle, catching Lindsey's attention. She glanced in the side mirror to see that the Humvee had its right blinker on. The sound she'd heard was the vehicle's horn, signaling that there was a change of course. Charlie promptly made the turn and Lindsey leaned into it. She saw no marking at the top of the road, but had confidence that Andrew was leading them in the right direction. Howeve
r, that confidence started to waver when the road went from pavement to dirt—greasy, muddy dirt. Recent rain had left the road in a bad state. The motorcycle seemed to be handling it okay, but Lindsey didn't trust it so much when she felt Charlie tense under her grip. He slowed their speed, while retaining enough momentum to keep going.

  Suddenly, Lindsey saw that the road was washed out up ahead. Charlie must have seen it, too, because he tried to decrease their speed and swung the bike to the left. The tires spun out, flinging up chunks of mud as it tipped to the side. Charlie was able to hold it up just long enough for Lindsey to tumble onto the wet ground and clear the bike. It slammed down onto Charlie, making him cry out as it pinned his leg. Lindsey scrambled across the mud and threw off her helmet. She reached down and braced herself as she attempted to lift the motorcycle off him. She heard a door close and Andrew appeared next to her, his hands moving to lift the heavy piece of machinery. They grunted from the weight as their feet slid on the slick surface. Once it was up just enough, Charlie slipped out and felt along his leg.

  "I'm good," he mumbled. "Thanks."

  Andrew reached out to hold Lindsey's mud-splattered arm as his eyes skimmed over her. "Are you all right?"

  She nodded and glanced at the decimated road before them. "Guess we're not going this way…"

  "Yeah, no shit," Charlie retorted. His tone reminded Lindsey of when she was younger and her friends would reply, "Thanks, Captain Obvious." The memory and his remark brought a smirk to her lips.

  "We're gonna have to turn around—" Andrew began, but the churning sound of tires cut him off. The three of them looked toward the noise that was echoing throughout the forest and let out a collective groan. Both vehicles were stuck, and every rotation of the tires buried them further into the mud.

  Movement between the trees caught Lindsey's eye. Three turners stumbled among the fallen leaves, drawn in by the sounds. Quickly, three turned into five, then seven, and so on. The numbers grew before their weary eyes, and alarm shot through Lindsey's body, sending her heart into overdrive. That many turners rode on the edge of unmanageable.