by Perrin Briar
“I wish you would stop saying things like that,” Dana said.
“Like what?” Hugo said.
“Things that make me think something is going to jump out at us at any second,” Dana said.
“Sorry,” Hugo said.
‘Sorry’ wasn’t what Dana wanted to hear. She scratched her head in irritation. She wanted him to be harder than this, stronger. Not a flinching imbecile.
Dana gripped the panel underneath the steering wheel and yanked it loose. It came away in her hands, exposing the wires inside. For a simple car, there were an awful number of wires. But it was easy when you knew what you were looking for.
Dana sorted through the various bunches until she came to the ones she wanted. She extracted her knife and cut away the plastic casing. Then she cut the wires and tapped them against one another. They were live. She could feel the power running through them.
Dana pressed the wires together and wrapped them around each other. Then she took out the screwdriver and inserted it into the ignition. It only fit about a centimeter into the end, but it was enough.
“Here goes nothing,” Dana said.
She turned it. The car coughed, wheezed, and then jittered into life. It hadn’t been that long since the apocalypse had kicked off, which meant this old tin bucket had always been a poor starter.
There was something cute about the vehicle, cozy, like it was meant for short drives in the country on weekends. A far cry from the world it now inhabited.
Dana put the car into first gear and pulled off the forecourt and onto the street strewn with vehicles and corpses. Dana shifted into second and then third, keeping the revs low. She didn’t want to make lots of noise and get the attention of anything dangerous.
She decided not to go down the street they had seen the pack of walkers had gone down, for fear she might run into them again. She would drive slowly, running down an adjacent street. She and Hugo would keep their eyes peeled for traffic blockages.
“Why do you think they group together the way they do?” Hugo said.
“Huh?” Dana said.
“The infected,” Hugo said. “The crowd we saw before. There were what, forty, fifty of them? Why do they stick together like that?”
Dana shrugged.
“How should I know?” she said. “Maybe one makes a noise, attracting others. And then, because there are more of them, they make even more noises. Eventually they swell in number to a great horde.”
“Maybe,” Hugo said, not sounding convinced. “Then they would attack each other a lot more than they do, don’t you think? Maybe there’s something still written in their genes that tells them to stick together, to be social.”
“It’s irrelevant,” Dana said, hand tapping the steering wheel. “It doesn’t help us, so it’s useless.”
“You never know what information might be useful later,” Hugo said. “That’s why it’s always best to know more than you need.”
Except that wasn’t always true. Hugo knew too much, which was why he kept dwelling on things, the same thoughts running through his mind. It wasn’t good for anybody to be like that.
As Dana took the car deeper into the city, she was struck by the fact they were heading into the great unknown, into a place she now knew nothing.
The unknown world could be a far greater threat than the known. And how.
Chapter Three
THE ROAD unfurled like a giant rolling pop up book, seemingly without end in sight. Some streets were untouched by the events of the past few weeks, while others were destroyed almost beyond recognition.
Dana steered carefully around the cars left abandoned in the middle of the road, neither wanting to damage their own mode of transport nor harm an uninfected who might lurch out from behind another car at the last moment.
Dana knew how dangerous that was—she still had the grazes to prove it.
Every few seconds they came across another undead, their eyes glinting in the moonlight. Dana swerved to avoid colliding with them whenever she could. She knew a lot about hot wiring cars, but nothing about how to fix them. She cursed herself for her lack of knowledge.
Dana was sure they were getting a long tail as they moved through the city. A continuous drone like that of their engine could pull undead in from miles around. Dana was careful to keep the revs low, but she really had no idea how many infected she was getting the attention of.
By the time she got to the university she might well have enough undead on her tail to launch a full-on assault on the university and its temporary protectors. It was a daydream, not likely to happen, but Dana forgave herself this little indulgence. It was good to hallucinate sometimes. You didn’t know what ideas they might toss up.
Then they came to the checkpoint.
Dana snapped from her daydream immediately, and altered her grip on the steering wheel to give herself more control should she have need of it.
The two roads she might have taken on either side were blocked. The blockades looked solid and well made. Dana wasn’t sure she’d be able to get through it with their little motor.
Two figures, men by the way they held themselves, stood heavily armed and dressed in MOPP suits. They raised their hands in a gesture for Dana to stop.
“What do you think?” Hugo said.
“I don’t know,” Dana said. “They might be military.”
Was that a good or bad thing? Dana didn’t know. Their guns hung in a threatening gesture. It was not lost on Dana.
Contamination suits? Dana thought. They’d need to set up a perimeter around the entire city if they were going to try and contain the virus now.
Unless, these figures didn’t know the virus had already spread beyond all control, and they had been left out of the loop and only remained here because it was their duty to do so.
The streets on either side of the junction were blocked. Anyone wishing to pass had to go through the checkpoint. Dana didn’t like it. Not having options meant doing what someone else wanted you to do.
The risk they were taking increased with every meter they drew closer to the armed men. Every inch meant they would be more and more accurate.
“What are we going to do?” Hugo said.
“Rest your gun on the dashboard,” Dana said.
Hugo, to his credit, did so without questioning her. Had he finally learnt how someone like him was going to survive in the world now? The weak needed to obey the strong.
“Aim at whichever one approaches first,” Dana said.
“What if-” Hugo said.
“If they both approach at the same time, just pick one and blow him away first,” Dana said.
Hugo gulped, seeming to use his whole body for the action.
Dana brought the car first to a crawl and then a stop, a good fifteen yards from the men. The man on the right waved for Dana to come closer. Hugo shifted target. Dana didn’t move a muscle.
The man raised his hand again, waving for them to come closer. Dana wasn’t about to do anything that dumb.
The two men turned to one another, said something, before turning back to face the car. Dana reached over and began unwinding her window. No electronic devices in this beauty. It was done by hand or it wasn’t done at all.
“Come closer!” the man shouted.
“You come closer!” Dana shouted back.
She put her rifle in her lap and switched off the safety. She put it on the dash and never removed her eyes from the two men.
“We can’t just speed through them, can we?” Hugo said. “There might be more barricades ahead. They’re guaranteed to have radios. They’ll inform each other of us coming at them. And that’s only if we manage to get through them here. They could riddle us with bullets if we try to rush through.”
Dana didn’t like it, but Hugo was right. They were in trouble. If they reversed, the men might open fire too.
“We’re going to have to confront them,” Dana said.
Hugo didn’t much like the word ‘confron
t’. It suggested violence, anger, no possible way for a peaceful outcome.
Dana reached for a round dial to the right of the steering wheel and turned the little knob. Click, click! First, the headlights came on, and then the high beam.
Dana wasn’t sure they would work—she hadn’t tried them since getting in the vehicle at the gas station as she hadn’t wanted to attract more attention from the undead than necessary.
The men held up their hands to block the worst of the bright light cast by the headlights, blinded. Their visors apparently gave them little protection.
“What are you doing?” Hugo said.
“Giving us an advantage,” Dana said. “Keep your eyes on them. Give me my rifle. It’s on the back seat.”
Hugo reached back and handed it to her. Dana rested it on her knees.
“Turn your lights off!” the man on the right shouted.
Dana did nothing.
“Turn your lights off now!” the man repeated.
Hugo looked from the man to Dana. Clearly, he would have turned the lights off without a second’s hesitation.
“That’s close enough!” Dana shouted through her window.
The man came to a stop. He stood stock still, no doubt wondering at what point he had lost control of the situation.
Dana couldn’t see his face through his helmet. She didn’t like it. If she couldn’t see his face she couldn’t gauge his intentions. She’d confronted more than one bully in the past and her odds of defeating them were always greatly improved when she could take in all intelligence.
“Take off your helmet!” Dana shouted.
“It’s me who gives the orders here!” the man said. “Not you! You are in violation of CDC rules and regulations. Step from the vehicle now!”
“The city is overrun,” Dana said.
“This section of the city is under quarantine,” the man said. “We are under orders to maintain this blockade. Please step from your vehicle.”
Was it possible he didn’t know the virus had taken over the entire city? Dana supposed it was possible. If communications were down and there was no way to contact them, and few of the undead had made their way down this street… How would they know in that case?
“The undead are everywhere,” Dana said. “There’s nothing left. I’m surprised you’re still here. The army was conclusively destroyed—twice—by the undead. And that was just at the King’s County Detention Center. If you think that means there’s still a chance of taking back this city, then you’re welcome to try, but you won’t be forcing me to follow your idiotic regulations. They have failed. Failed us, failed the country, failed the world. There is nothing you can do to stop the spread now. It’s already out.”
The man on the right cocked his head to the side in thoughtful repose. He might just believe her, if she played her cards right.
“Let me guess,” Dana said. “You’ve lost contact with the other barricades, with HQ. The reason for that is very simple. They’ve been overrun. They can’t reply to your messages because there is no one there to answer them. You were expecting to be relieved at any moment, right? Probably hours ago. I’m sorry to tell you you are all that remains of the CDC.”
There was a long pause after that. It could only be to the good, Dana thought.
“How did you get past the barricade on Boren Avenue?” the man said, and now Dana could hear a little doubt entering his voice.
“Boren Avenue?” Dana said. “There was no barricade on Boren Avenue.”
“Men were meant to come from there to relieve us,” the man said.
“I’m sorry,” Dana said. “Maybe there was one there, but it’s gone now.”
The man’s whole demeanor changed. His body slumped. He took off his helmet, revealing a handsome, rugged face. His hair was plastered to his sweaty brow. He wasn’t shy in showing how broken up he felt about learning his friends and co-workers were no more.
“I think we should get out,” Hugo said.
“And put our lives in their hands?” Dana said. “No thanks. Have you forgotten what happened at the detention center already? We put our lives in their hands too, and they had butterfingers.”
“They were just following orders,” Hugo said.
“Yes,” Dana said. “Which means they only know as much as their superiors allow them to.”
“How do you know that?” Hugo said.
“Because why else would they still be here?” Dana said.
Dana was doing them a favor, she told herself. Eventually the undead would make it here and there would be no escape for them. And if they were to get hurt or shot by her? Then so be it.
They may have had the advantage of the bright headlights, but there was nowhere else Dana could have been sitting but in the front driver’s seat. She was an easy target.
“No,” Dana said. “Wait.”
There was an electronic buzzing sound. The dashboard lights flickered, going out, before coming back on again. The same happened with the car’s headlights.
The man on the right kept his eyes fastened on the driving seat, and Dana realized he could see her face, the light letting up just enough for him to make out her features.
The flicker of light wasn’t the only change. There was also a flicker of mirth in the man’s eyes, and it was only then that Dana noticed how ill-fitting his uniform was.
There was a stain across the neck, and not a mark, as far as she could tell, on his skin. Under normal conditions that wouldn’t have been enough for Dana to tell what happened, but her survival instincts were on high alert, and had been for the past three weeks. There no way she was going to take a risk, not with Max’s life on the line.
“You’re just a girl,” the man said, and his voice couldn’t have held more merriment.
Dana had been so focused on what the man was saying that she hadn’t been paying attention to what he looked like.
These men were not from the CDC.
There was no barricade on Boren Avenue because there never had been one. It was a red herring, to make Dana believe him. Something had happened to the real CDC men that were stationed here. Maybe it had been these men.
And yet, Dana did not panic. She had learned long ago that the reason people survived and got to carry on with their lives was they were the ones who kept their heads in any situation. Logic reigned.
Dana recognized the shift in power, how the man on the right now held himself, like a man who held all the aces in a game of poker. But he was misguided, overconfident. It was still a sticky situation, to be sure. But at least now Dana understood her part in it.
“We’ve got company,” Hugo said.
He had his eyes fixed firmly on the man ahead as Dana had instructed him, but he glanced, a flicker of the eyes, at his wing mirror. Dana glanced at it too. She could see, in the glaring red of the vehicle’s brake lights, what Hugo was referring to.
The undead. First one, and then many.
Attracted by the little Beetle’s bright lights, the undead were coming out to play.
Instead of the usual fear Dana associated upon seeing these lumbering creatures, she felt something else. Hope. These critters, unable to slow or stop their pursuit after they’d been attracted by something small—say, a car engine or its headlights, might actually be the distraction they needed.
But Dana would need to be quick if she was to take advantage of it. The electric signals in her brain fired, linking and overlapping, rebounding, before spinning round and returning to her pre-frontal cortex. She had an idea.
“All right,” Dana said out the window. “I’m pulling forward now.”
“Atta girl,” the man said. “You know it makes sense.”
Dana lowered the handbrake and eased the car forward.
“What are you doing?” Hugo hissed at Dana.
It was his favorite question. He was right in asking it, of course. Dana would have wanted to know what was happening too if her life was on the line.
“Getting out
of here,” Dana said.
Hugo must have picked up on the flatness of her voice, the calm detachment with which she had made the statement.
“I’m not sure I can do this,” Hugo said. “I can’t murder innocent men.”
“Why not?” Dana said. “They’re going to murder you if you don’t.”
Hugo frowned, his podgy little face swelling into a wrinkled depiction of conflict.
Dana depressed the accelerator. She wanted to hide the undead’s approach.
“Dana…” Hugo said. “What if these men are who they say they are? You’re entering very dark territory.”
“Look at their MOPP suits,” Dana said. “They don’t fit, and they’re streaked with blood. And look how he reacted when he saw my face. A real CDC officer wouldn’t look nor think like that.”
“But you might be wrong,” Hugo said.
“Whatever it takes to get Max free,” Dana said.
“This isn’t getting her free,” Hugo said. “This is getting through a barricade.”
“What’s the difference, when it prevents me from rescuing Max?” Dana said.
Hugo was not to be appeased so easily.
“Fine,” Dana said. “You want proof? I’ll give it to you.”
The man in the MOPP suit smiled and leaned down, resting his elbows on Dana’s door frame.
“Evening,” he said. “Fine looking vehicle you got here.”
He saw the screwdriver jammed in the ignition and the panel missing from the bottom of the driver’s side dash.
“You got skills, kid,” the man said. “I give you that.”
He raised his hand. The light blinked off the edge of the razor sharp knife that he rested on the door frame.
“Let’s see what other skills you got, shall we?” he said with a sinister look in his eye.
“You need a new suit,” Dana said. “Your current one is ill-fitting.”
“My poor idiot girl,” the man said, his tone losing the friendliness it had once fostered. “That’s because it’s not mine.”
Dana turned to Hugo, who threw up his hands.
“Okay,” he said. “Fine.”
“‘Okay’ what?” the man said.