Road of Stars

by Ariel Bonin

  Lindsey silently processed everything he said. Hank had been through hell and back, and yet here he was, still fighting. She couldn't have held more respect for the guy if she'd tried.

  "Your turn," he said, catching her off guard.

  "Uh, well, it kind of sucks to follow that story." The corner of Hank's mouth quirked up slightly. "There's really not much to it. My husband and I were trying to get out of St. Louis…"

  "St. Louis? Damn."

  "Yeah, exactly." Lindsey exhaled a slow breath before saying, "He got attacked on the highway. I traveled with some different groups for a while and then found Andrew—or to be precise, he found me."

  "So you and Andrew are together?" He didn't sound personally interested, just curious.

  She nodded.

  "I'm glad to hear that somethin' good came out of all this," he said with a sincere smile.

  _____

  The next morning, Andrew hot-wired the Explorer out front and they loaded up. Zoey and Charlie went around to each car and siphoned more than enough fuel to get them to New Canaan. Everything was lining up—they were so close Lindsey could almost taste it. She climbed into the SUV, occupying the back seat with Caren. Zoey and Jacob were placed in the middle seat, while Robert kept Andrew company up front. They said goodbye to the resort and headed down the road with a renewed spirit.

  Somewhere along the way, boredom set in and the napping began. Lindsey glanced at the dark-haired woman asleep next to her and wished she still had a cell phone, as this moment required an embarrassing photo. Since she no longer had one, a visual snapshot would have to do.

  Lindsey's own eyelids became heavy and started to droop, but a strange sight on the side of the road had her doing a double-take. A sign welcomed them to, well, she couldn't say because there was simply too much blood smeared over the name. It listed a population of 1,310, but Lindsey would put it at 1,309 for the body of a deceased young man impaled on the front of it. For a minute she wondered if she'd seen it right. When she met Andrew's concerned eyes in the rearview mirror, she knew she had.

  About two miles after the sign another body appeared, but this time it was hanging from a telephone pole along the road, too far decomposed and disfigured to identify a gender. What was one body soon became three, then four, until the whole street was lined. Some of the corpses had turned, indicating that not enough damage to the brain had occurred and they'd been strung up alive.

  "We need to turn around," Robert said from the passenger seat, his voice just as horrified as they all felt.

  At that exact moment, Bill's truck stopped in front of them.

  "Good, they have the same idea," Andrew said, shifting into reverse.

  The next series of events happened so quickly that Lindsey barely had a chance to react. Twenty to thirty men emerged from the buildings beside the street, along with another fifteen or so arriving on motorcycles. They surrounded the vehicles and proceeded to smash out all the windows using various pipes and tire irons. Jacob awoke in a fit of screams and one of the men raised his weapon to the infant.

  "Don't—!" Lindsey managed to free her Glock and lodged a round between his eyes. A moment later someone snatched her gun and hauled her out the broken window, kicking and screaming.

  "Against the vehicles!" a man ordered from nearby. With wild blond hair sticking out from under a spiked helmet and a nasty scar on his cheek, he screamed trouble.

  Jacob cried from inside his car seat as each survivor was forced to stand against the SUV and trucks.

  "You're making a mistake!" Bill yelled.

  "Shut up, old man," the assumed leader retorted. He gestured over his shoulder and a woman appeared from behind him. Faint wrinkles outlined her dark eyes from under sharp brows. A cascade of equally dark hair caught in the breeze and fluttered around her angular face. She pursed her full lips as she walked along the line of people and stopped to inspect each one. Lindsey's heart thudded with every step.

  She peered down at the dead man by the SUV—the one Lindsey had shot—and raised her shadowy gaze. Pointing a long fingernail, she asked, "Who did this?"

  Lindsey's breath hitched and she swallowed the lump of guilt in her throat. Zoey glanced in her direction, but not directly at her. Jacob continued to wail, pushing the tension to unbearable heights.

  "Come on now. Surely someone knows. Anyone?" She looked around at her men and walked in a circle.

  "Him."

  Everyone's head snapped to the right, to where a man stood with Lindsey's gun pointed at Bill.

  The woman in charge made a 'tsking' sound with her tongue as she approached Bill. Confused and horrified, Lindsey tried to step in front of him.

  "It was me—"

  In a flash, the back of her hand connected with Lindsey's cheek. Two gaudy rings left a pair of scratches along the raw skin. Lindsey held her cheek and the woman gave her a hard shove away from Bill. Andrew stopped her momentum and pulled her into his arms.

  "Stay. Out. Of. My. Way," the woman said, her tone containing a promise of pain if they didn't heed her words. Turning back to the man before her, she asked, "What's your name?"

  "Bill."

  "Well, Bill, I'm Victoria. And I would say it's a pleasure, but these are my sons…and you killed one of them."

  His brows knotted together. "All'a these guys are your sons?"

  "Blood isn't relative nowadays—even you know that."

  Bill didn't acknowledge her statement. He just continued to squint at her.

  Victoria clasped her hands and brought her index fingers to her lips. Then, using them to point at him, she smiled. "Do you know what today is?"

  Bill's eyebrows twitched. "I don't know, Monday?"

  Victoria laughed. "It is comparable, isn't it?" She paused for effect. "Today is going to be one of the worst days of your life."

  Lindsey's blood practically screamed in alarm, her adrenaline spiking. Bill stared with wide eyes as Victoria took a step back and pointed at each individual.

  "I want her, him, him and the ginger."

  "No," Caren choked out as Robert was tugged from the group and thrown onto the ground in front of them, along with Hannah, Charlie and Hank.

  "Oh, what the hell, him too," she said suddenly, smirking at Lindsey.

  One of the bikers dragged Andrew away from her and dropped him with the others. Her heart shot into her throat and the lack of oxygen in her body threatened to overwhelm her.

  "Daddy!" Zoey cried, reaching for him, but Lindsey pulled her into a tight hold.

  Andrew's blue eyes were afraid, which in turn, made Lindsey downright terrified. Zoey whimpered and he failed at giving the girl a reassuring look.

  The man with the spiky helmet circled around to his motorcycle, a seen-better-days Triumph, and retrieved a noose.

  And Lindsey thought she couldn't breathe before…

  "All right, old man, come here," the man said to Bill, grabbing him by the front of his shirt.

  "Why are you doing this?" Bill asked them desperately.

  "Oh, I'm not doing anything—you are. This is your punishment for murdering my boy." When Bill stared at Victoria blankly, she said, "Pick one."

  "What?"

  "I said, pick one." She sounded like she was losing her patience.

  "Why? What for?"

  She gave him a not-quite-sympathetic smile and said as if it were obvious, "To die."

  Bill shook his head vehemently. "No, I refuse to do that."

  "Don't make this any more difficult than it needs to be, honey."

  Spiky Helmet spun around and kicked a marred boot into Robert's chest, knocking him backward. Caren cried out and Lindsey hugged the distraught woman close while keeping Zoey on her opposite side.

  "I won't be responsible for any more lives lost," Bill stated, keeping his worried gaze on Hannah.

  "Fine. I'll do it."

  Victoria went over to the lineup and paced back and forth, putting Lindsey even more on edge. Andrew's chest heaved. She could tell
he was just as frustrated as she was that they were so helpless.

  Finally, the woman stopped pacing—behind Charlie.

  Chapter 20

  A chorus of shouts and protests rose into the air, but Bill's voice was louder than the rest.

  "Wait! I'll choose!"

  The leader paused with her hand fisted in Charlie's hair. Charlie had his eyes closed, bracing for whatever would come next. Tears pricked Lindsey's eyes as she feared for his life. She couldn't watch him die—it would destroy her and everyone else, Andrew especially. Charlie was his best friend, his brother. She stared at the man across from her and her heart went out to him. It was plain to see that this was killing Andrew. If he didn't have children, he probably would have sacrificed himself—as much as that hurt to think about.

  "Please, don't," Bill said as Victoria walked around her potential victims to allow the two of them to speak face to face again. "I- I'll choose."

  Don't do it. Don't you fucking choose.

  Lindsey had no idea what else he was supposed to do though. It was impossible to get out of this—they were too far outnumbered.

  "Well?" Victoria asked now. "Who's it going to be?"

  What Lindsey or any of them didn't see was the nod that Hank gave to Bill. The older man's shoulders dropped and he hung his head in defeat. He mumbled something and Lindsey leaned forward as she tried to hear what it was.

  "Come again?" the threatening woman snapped.

  "H-Hank."

  Holy shit, Lindsey thought to herself. Did he really just do that?

  The leader pivoted and honed in on the soldier behind her. "Are you Hank?"

  He nodded, appearing completely calm and at peace with what was about to happen.

  She rested a hand on his shoulder. "Any last words? It's more than the flesh-eaters will give you."

  "No," Hank said. "Just take me home to my girls."

  Victoria nodded and, as if she were doing him a favor, said, "Consider it done."

  When Spiky Helmet placed the noose around Hank's neck and pulled out his knife, Lindsey gasped and reached for Zoey.

  "Don't look!" she cried.

  It was probably a futile move, but the girl didn't need to add this on top of everything she'd witnessed up to this point. She pulled Zoey's face into her chest and hugged her close as the bikers began their torture. The sounds...the sounds were something she would never forget, though she prayed she would. She just wanted to scream and drown it out. On the other hand, Hank hardly made a noise—he didn't beg and he didn't scream.

  When the gagging sound moved skyward, Lindsey raised her shimmering eyes and felt her stomach roll. The sight was worse than the sounds. Zoey tried to move her head in the same direction, but Lindsey wouldn't let her. Victoria stood below Hank's broken body, which hung from the power lines like the rest of their corpse collection. He continued to twitch in his last moments of life, and Lindsey looked away.

  Victoria passed the knife back to Spiky Helmet and strode over to Bill as she used a rag to clean her hands. Bill's unblinking gaze stayed fixed on the dead man above him, his mouth agape in disbelief.

  "Congratulations, Bill," Victoria said, "you are officially the first person to not sacrifice himself for the greater good. Good luck living with that," she added, patting his back.

  Bill's face contorted into a look of total anguish as he fell to pieces.

  She leaned in as he wept. "You have five minutes to get the fuck out of my town or I'll kill all of you." And with those words, she mounted the back of the beat up Triumph and rounded up her men to go back to wherever they'd come from.

  After wiping off his bloody knife, Spiky Helmet pointed it at Charlie. The rancher was still on his knees and looked about as stunned as the rest of the group. "Leave the bike!" he ordered.

  As they all cleared out, Hannah directed a glare at her father. She jumped up from the pavement, shoving him as she yelled through her tears, "You coward! How could you?"

  Bill staggered as she pushed him again and he mumbled in his stupor, "I know… I-I deserve this…"

  Hannah would have continued to slap him in an outburst of aggression, but Nicholas surged forward and pulled her back. She tried to fight him, too, but eventually turned into his chest and cried. Andrew dashed across the road and reached through the broken window of the Explorer to retrieve his wailing son from the car seat. Lindsey and Zoey willed their shaky legs to move and met him there.

  As they all embraced, Robert cursed from behind the SUV. "They took all our supplies…all our food!"

  "We'll deal with it later. Right now we need to get the hell outta here," Andrew stated as he passed Jacob to Lindsey. They piled into the Explorer and carefully brushed the pebbled glass off their seats. Lindsey held the infant, opting not to put him back in his car seat. It wasn't the safest move, but she wasn't letting the boy out of her sight. If that man had killed him…

  Lindsey reached down to pat her holster. Everyone's weapons had been tossed aside but recovered. Her Glock was still missing. The reason for its absence—and the memory of the unfortunate events after it—came on like a bad hangover.

  "God, this is my fault!" she whispered, burying her head in the crook of Jacob's neck.

  "It's not," Caren said. "You were protecting him. We all would have done the same thing."

  A moment later, Lindsey said, "My gun's gone…" It was such a stupid thing to worry about after everything that had just happened, but that gun was like an extension of her right hand.

  Caren rubbed her back. "We'll get you a new one."

  But it's not the same. She didn't say the words aloud for fear of sounding like a whining child. That gun had saved her and those she loved on countless occasions. Though, how did that saying go? 'Guns don't kill people, people kill people.' As long as she had a weapon, she'd deal.

  _____

  Andrew squinted through the wind that whipped through the SUV's broken windshield and saw a sign up ahead for a small gas station. He honked the horn once and Charlie pulled their Ford into the parking lot, followed by Nicholas in Bill's truck. The lieutenant colonel was too distraught to drive and understandably so. Andrew still couldn't believe what the man had done. There had been few alternatives, but to flat out give up Hank, his best friend. What had he been thinking? And yet, Hank had handled it like a man. His last breath spoke of "his girls." Andrew wondered who he could've been referring to—a wife and daughter maybe? As they'd driven away, Hank's body had begun to stir once more as the reanimation process kicked in. None of them knew what happened after death, but Andrew truly hoped Hank was at peace with his family—even in turner form.

  The three vehicles parked and everyone climbed out. Charlie walked over to Andrew.

  "I'll see if I can get that Chevy goin'," he said, gesturing to a tan sport utility in the lot.

  "Good," Andrew replied. "We'll look around, hopefully find some food."

  When he turned around, Nicholas had a map spread out on the hood. "Hey, Andrew, where was that rendezvous point again?"

  "Victor Bravo. Bill thought it'd be some kind of beach." The two men scanned the large map of Florida, directing their concentration south of Fort Myers. Andrew put his finger on a spot that looked about right. "Vanderbilt Beach, that's gotta be it."

  "I think so. That's, what, 125 miles from here?"

  "What are you thinking?" Andrew asked.

  Nicholas sighed, not seeming too pleased with what he was about to say. "We drive through the night. Even with a few detours we could be there by sun up."

  Andrew contemplated this, weighing their options and coming up empty. "Let's go for it."

  Nicholas clapped him on the back. "That's the spirit. Get whatever you can out of that Explorer and load up. Kat and I will check out the store. Just think, twenty-four hours from now we could be sittin' on a beach, drinkin' a beer."

  Andrew smiled at the thought, but when his subconscious reminded him of what had occurred only minutes before, his heart plummeted into his
stomach and the smile was gone. He focused his attention elsewhere, finding Zoey inside the demolished SUV.

  "Look, Dad! They missed my bag! I've still got the picture for Jake and my snack stash."

  Andrew raised his eyebrows. "'Snack stash'?"

  Zoey held out a handful of chocolate bars and beef jerky sticks. "I was saving them for a special occasion—or an emergency like this. I'd like to share with the group."

  "Thanks. We'd really appreciate that." He squeezed Zoey's shoulder and forced another smile. Lindsey was still holding Jacob and when Andrew reached over to relieve her, he noticed her empty holster. "Where's your gun?"

  "Those guys took it." It looked like she was trying to shrug it off but failed miserably. "It's my fault…Hank and Bill…"

  "No, Linds—"

  "Yes! It is!" She stepped out of his reach. "I shot that man. I have no idea why they said it was Bill. He had nothing to do with it."

  Andrew shook his head. "What happened? I didn't even see it."

  "That guy was going to kill Jake…but I was faster."

  He stared at her as the words sunk in. His arms wrapped tighter around the boy in his arms. So close. They'd come so close to losing Jacob—and he'd had no idea.

  "You saved my son. I don't give a shit what they thought Bill did. You did exactly what you were supposed to do."

  "But Hank—that poor man. And what Victoria said to Bill about being punished…"

  "Lindsey, stop. That woman was insane. She punished all of us. Do not put this on yourself, okay?"

  After a few seconds she nodded, not meeting his eyes.

  Andrew leaned toward Lindsey and brushed his lips over her forehead. His thumb grazed her cheek, just below the dual scratches she'd received from Victoria. "Are you all right?"

  "I was afraid I was going to watch you die, Andrew… I was so scared," she murmured, furrowing her brow.

  "I know. I'm sorry. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

  _____

  They pounded the pavement, reaching North Naples as a beautiful sunrise of purple and pink stretched across the horizon. Even at this distance they could smell the ocean. Butterflies of excitement and anxiety fluttered in Lindsey's stomach. She was once again crammed into the backseat, but this time sandwiched between Caren and Ana. Both women were sleeping and she wished she'd asked for a window seat.