by Jon Fore
"How's the gas?"
Jackson had just given voice to the worry on Vega's mind, and although she had avoided looking since they borrowed the car, she finally looked down to find the needle just above half a tank. "More than half a tank. That should get us the rest of the way."
"Then I'm going to sleep," Jackson said as he leaned to his left and against the door.
Maria didn't say anything else, but leaned into him and put her head on his upper arm. Before Vega looked away from the mirror, she was sure they were both already asleep.
The high beams made the road much easier to see, and she eased the speed up to around seventy-five. She didn't want to miss Route 1 North, but was pretty sure she had another half hour to go.
That was, at least, until she saw the next traffic jam.
This one was much longer than the last, stretched beyond the power of the head lights. Another collection of foreign cars, or at least cars Vega was not used to seeing in America, all lined up neatly in three rows. She slowed and then stopped some yards away when the blood and gore became obvious inside the back windows of the last three cars.
With the passenger side of the car filled with provisions, more than a half tank of gas, there really was no need to stop. Hell, she was willing to bet these cars all idled themselves to empty anyway. That and she had no way of getting gas from one car to another.
To the right of the row of cars was a guard rail, next to which was a cement median, and then the oncoming lanes, which were barren. To the left of the rows of cars was a grass field about twenty yards wide, and then the ascending slope of a hill and the beginning of the more hardier plant life, such as sapling trees.
After some thought, she decided to stay to the left. The grassy area would give her more room to get around the traffic jam if she had to maneuver to avoid cars on the shoulder. That and the thicker plants were still pretty far from anything you might call a forest, so a sneak attack was more likely to come from the cars full of gore on the right. Harder to see, yeah, but she decided to go ahead and risk it. They had to get past this either way.
She looked into the rearview mirror and considered waking the other two, but chose not to. If anything happened, they would be awake quick enough, and they'd only been asleep for about half an hour. They looked so perfect back there, as if they were meant to be together regardless of the difference in age, height, and skin tone.
Vega broke from her musing and cut the wheel over, drifting the car forward. As she past the first car, or the last car in the traffic jam, she could see out for about a mile and her path was clear. She brought the car up to about ten miles an hour, and then to twenty, then risked more like forty. The shoulder was clear of debris with the exception of occasional safety glass from broken windows. This eased her fear of another flat tire. A flat tire they wouldn't have a spare for.
After a while, she still couldn't see the end of this particular traffic jam, but did suddenly see the enormous anchor support for a suspension bridge. It was twice as wide as the car, three times as tall, and diagonally striped with orange and black. She had to work the brakes a bit hard, but was able to stop without hitting the anchor or waking the passengers in the back.
Vega let her forehead come to rest on the steering wheel. She had a real problem now. The deathly silent traffic jam was bumper to bumper and blocking the entire length of the bridge. That and the bridge looked to be about a half of a mile long, maybe more.
What were they going to do now? The other side would be just as blocked as this one. they were going to have to walk it. If they weren't moving, then they were a cherry target for whatever attacked the other cars. They had to keep moving. It was time to wake them. "Jackson?"
"Yeah?" he returned immediately.
"We got a problem."
"I see that. Maria, sweetie, you have to wake up. We have to walk some."
"You're kidding, for sure," she said dreamily.
"No," Jackson said softly.
"I'm sorry, Maria, but we have to cross this bridge," Vega apologized.
"Well that sucks," She said, but finally sat up and looked at the massive bridge.
"We have to get moving. Whatever killed these people might still be here."
"Seriously?” Maria asked and pulled the shotgun closer.
"What do we do with all them supplies?” Jackson pointed at the pile in the front.
"Take what we can," Vega said, then started to search her side window for any movement.
"I’ll carry the supplies. You guys handle the shooting," Jackson said and immediately climbed from the car.
"So much for tactics," Vega murmured and climbed out after him.
"That's a big fucking bridge," Maria said as Jackson squeezed past to collect the stores.
"I don't like this," Vega said softly, looking up and into the support cables stretched over the bridge. They climbed high enough that anything could be hiding up there, and they would never see it. The iron towers that made up the bridge's segments also climbed to a useable height. With the cars lined up the entire span, three wide, it was a perfect ambush spot. Maria was right. This sucks.
"That's about all I can manage," Jackson said. He had an arm load of boxes and Vega's backpack over one shoulder.
How he was going to carry that for upward of a mile, Vega didn't know, and hoped to God there was another car at the far end they could borrow. There was no way they could walk all the way to Amsterdam. She knew they would be willing to try, just certain they wouldn't make it. "I don't know how we should do this, only that one gun goes first, the other comes last, the stores in the middle."
"I'll be last," Maria said instantly.
"You sure?” Vega asked.
"Yeah," she shrugged her shoulders, "why not?"
"The one that goes first is the most likely to be killed. The one that goes last is the most likely to be captured, or in this case killed. So I don't know which is safer for you."
"I'll go last. You're the leader, remember?"
Vega couldn't believe it. In the midst of all of this gloomy talk, the tension, the stress of what they were about to do, the very fact that they could all die here in the next mile or so, and that crazy girl was actually smiling. Vega was struck dumb, and couldn't do anything but smile back. "Well then, let's get going. Try not to look in the cars."
Vega decided to keep the valley or the gulf or the river or whatever it was this bridge spanned to the left. So she turned off the Mercedes lights and began heading down the row of silent cars. Cars to the right, a bottomless abyss to the left. The second they crossed the edge of the anchor point, the wind became a near gale, blowing steady and bone bitingly cold. 'This really sucks.'
As they went along, they were all forced to look down to keep their faces from the wind. But ever few moments, Vega would look up to see what was ahead, what was overhead, and who was still behind her. Each time it drove tears from her eyes and a high burning in her cheeks. It didn't matter. She didn't want to end up doing battle out here in the torrent of wind, blowing from the left and buffeting the cars on the right.
After a while longer, maybe a third of their way across the bridge, Vega decided it was stupid to be on this side, and waited until the others bunched up, "Let's cross to the other side, see if we can't get out of the wind!"
Jackson nodded and Maria smiled.
They had to slide somewhat over the hood of a car in the first column, but could squeeze between the bumpers of the next two columns. Jackson had some trouble, his legs the circumference of a ham, but he managed.
By the ashen look on his face, Vega could tell he looked in one of the cars. 'Oh well, you’re a big boy. And if you weren't, you are now.'
The wind on this side was noticeably less, but still strong and cold. But to Vega's relief, she was able to keep her head up and eyes ahead, watching for trouble. As they passed the spaces between two cars they would catch the full fury of the wind, but only for a moment. Jackson was taller than most cars so he wasn
't as protected as Vega or Maria. But he didn't complain, and kept right along with Vega.
When they reached two thirds of the way across, Maria screamed.
Jackson dropped the boxes he was carrying and spun as Vega stepped past him to meet Maria already heading in their direction. "They are coming!" she screamed.
Vega leaned around the girl a bit and aimed the flashlight down from where they had come. Hordes of milling black shells were racing toward them. Still a distance away, but they were coming. These were the creature that first spilled through the gate Red opened, what felt like a million years ago Vega was familiar with them, if only a little. She turned to the other two, "Run!” Her voice was just barely strong enough to hear over the wind.
Jackson knelt to grab the box again and collect the random items that had spilled from it as Maria stepped around him to lead with her shotgun.
Vega turned back to the distant shiny things, took a knee, and began sending bullets at the horde. One at a time, she sent them, and one at a time the demons fell away. But each one she hit was replaced with another, and their speed did not falter. Vega stood, expecting to drive Jackson and Maria on their way, but they were already a good number of yards ahead. She began chasing them, bringing herself to a run just to catch up.
Every once in a while, Vega would stop, send a few rounds at the milling mass, then run to keep up. Each time she did, she could see they were closer, and she was hovering on full panic. At this rate, the demons would catch them just at the foot of the bridge, before they could find a place to hide. There was that and she was down to two or three rounds now and her other clips were running away from her in a backpack on Jackson's shoulder.
Vega had been scared before, like during the Taking when her sister vanished, and during the suicidal aftermath. Then there was that time some giant red-headed guy opened a gate, releasing all of Hell. That one was an award winner for sure. But right now, at this very moment, she felt entirely helpless and nearly out of control. She was sure there was no way to escape now. They were running now just to grab at a few more seconds of life. But the worst part was, Vega couldn't do a damn thing about it.
The end of the bridge came into sight, and Vega turned and fired her last three rounds at the milling mass, now only twenty-five, thirty feet away at best. At least this time she saw with a level of satisfaction the round land and the demon fall wounded or dead under its brethren. She caught sight of something she had never seen before running over the tops of the cars, loping, like some great wolf with a jet black pelt. That was enough for her. She turned back, and ran for all she was ever worth.
Ten yards from the end of the bridge there was a large clunk sound, and the roadway was suddenly flooded with the brightest light Vega had ever seen. It made her stumble a bit, now unsure if a threat was before as well as behind. She dropped her rifle and let it hang from its sling, and pulled the M-9. Spinning back to the milling mass behind her, she opened fire. In rapid gun emptying succession, she fired. Hitting one, selecting another, hit that one and so on until the breach caught and hung open, hungry as a baby bird for more ammunition.
Vega had slowed them, but not stopped them. She depended on Maria to attend to the front and began walking backwards, dropping the clip and reloading. One more after this, she thought to herself and began that rapid exercise of selecting and firing, selecting and firing. Her pace was as fast as it could be while walking backwards, and as this clip ran dry, an enormous sound began behind her, like a huge machine had turned over and its cylinders were not all firing.
She slapped the last magazine in and released the breech. It slammed closed as a dog creature exploded almost over her head. She turned her face away from the wet blue shrapnel, and started firing at the beetles again.
"Get down, soldier!” Someone called from behind her. There was a person behind her? An American person. She hit the deck as fast as she could.
The sensation of torn air clouded up right over her body, and the demons now ten feet away began to come apart in boiling blue splashes. Vega realized the engine she heard was actually small arms fire. She spun on her belly and risked an eye up to see a row of rifle barrels over top of concrete traffic barriers, each firing quickly and in just about the exact same direction.
Elation inflated in her chest and she began to low crawl, as low as she could, to the row of rifles. The bullets flying overhead could only be called 'sweltering,' and they even warmed the air above. She could feel them passing in mass or as singles, the air parting and slapping together, buffeting the whole length of her body. She was sure at any moment a bullet would go through her, take a cheek off her ass or a foot off her leg, but the firing suddenly stopped.
Vega rolled to her back and sat up, her pistol ready, but the demons were dead. A blue pulpy pile on the bridge not more than ten yards away. That sickening rotten potato smell wafted over her, only now, this time, it smelled like victory. Using her pistol and flashlight, she swept the mass, making sure nothing else moved, as if something actually could.
"Hey, soldier, get in here," A voice called to her in a friendly way.
Vega turned and ran to the barriers and found a familiar face smiling broadly at her.
"Lowery?" Her voice cracked with the utter shock of him being here.
"How many times do I have to pull your ass out of a firefight?” Lowery grinned at her.
"Got your own ammo this time?” She teased.
At this he broke into a deep throated Bayou laugh and embraced her. Theirs was the affection of those that have tossed lead together, in the same direction, and survived.
"Now, really, tell me what you are doing here.” He said seriously, but still with a smile.
Vega looked around to see a number of other soldiers, some listening, some surprised at Lowery's affection for this strange girl-soldier. What Vega couldn't believe was the light. Ample, brilliant light filled the end of the bridge and Vega didn't realize how much she missed just that simple thing. Jackson was standing there with the box of supplies still in his arms breathing heavy and Maria next to him, clinging to his arm, no longer in possession of her shotgun. "It's a long story, Lowery.” She said, then looked up at him, "Listen, my friends haven't slept in three days and haven't had a meal for longer than that. Can you hook them up while we talk?"
"Yeah, for a few hours though. We pulling out of here in a bit. Orders just came in."
"Really?"
"Yeah. The demons broke through on a flank to the south and they are evacuating the area."
"What about the people still at Grundun?” Vega asked, thinking of the nurses and doctors that put up with her bitching over the last three weeks.
"They were airlifted out. We were asked to hold this for as long as we could in case any civilians made it this far."
"Like us?"
"Exactly. Corporal Fitz, can you take these two through the chow hall and get them in a rack as soon as possible?"
"Sure, sergeant, which rack?"
"Give them mine. It's private. You two mind sleeping together?"
Vega chuckled out loud at the embarrassment on both of their faces. Jackson cleared his throat but Maria cut him off, "For sure.” She smiled, perhaps a bit wickedly.
"I'll take care of them.” Fitz said to Lowery, "Come on you guys," and he led them away.
"Sergeant now?” Vega asked.
"Yeah, but Bell was ready to field commission you right there, you know."
"Really?” Vega asked then began following Lowery as he walked towards the mess.
"Yeah, he was really impressed with you, especially since you came through with his meds even after all what happened. Let me buy you a cup of coffee."
The earth began to rumble, then immediately worked into a higher pitch. It was not like any earth quake Vega had ever felt, more like being on the base string of a harp than on blacktop. Then the lights went out, dropping them all into blackness.
Chapter 12
Lowery cursed imaginatively, and
then it seemed everyone was shouting. Soldiers, those with battery powered flashlights, began to add light to the scene, and Vega could see soldiers running. Each seemed to have a place to be, in a hurry, rushing as quickly as the darkness permitted. Had Vega not been a soldier herself, she would have thought all Hell had broken lose, again. But she understood what was happening, and the chaos to her made perfect sense.
Lowery began shouting orders as he strolled in the general direction of the temporary housing, the tents really, and Vega followed him. Lowery was shouting for the generators to be brought back on line, and for more soldiers at the mouth of the bridge. Some of the flashlights at the end of their rifles would light, but some would not. Even with this, in moments, there were enough soldiers with enough lights to illuminate many yards down the silent rows of parked cars.
A voice called suddenly from the blackness, "Lowery! Sitrep!"
"Sir," Lowery shouted back in the general direction, "we've lost all power, trying to get the generators back on line now." As if listening for that queue, the first generator began to crank, chug in its high pitched voice then belched. Light began to flicker mutely, in a soft yellow, then went out.
"Get more rifles on our six, Lowery!"
"Yes, sir. Walker, Keetch, let's wake em up."
Lowery stopped suddenly at one of the tents and Vega fell in beside him. "Where did my friends go?” She asked.
"I don't know. I've got my hands full right now."
"What in the Hell is going on," a voice asked over their shoulder.
Vega and Lowery turned as one to find a man, still in t-shirt and boxers. Lowery didn't salute, "Sir, I don't know. The ground shook and then the lights went out."
"We've lost the radio!” Someone shouted over yards of darkness.
"The radio?” The man in his underwear asked.
"It's like we lost anything with a circuit board," Lowery sounded confused.
"Magnetic pulse...” Underwear guy said.
"No way," Lowery hissed, "we won’t have vehicles."