Adaptive Instinct (Survival Instinct)

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Adaptive Instinct (Survival Instinct) Page 51

by Stittle, Kristal


  A few times, Riley caught glimpses of zombies trapped inside the other vehicles. Their decomposing bodies would get battered around the inside, like a penny inside a plastic jar, leaving smears of blood and rotted flesh on the windows. Then they’d be gone, the cars disappearing down the sides of the truck as they zoomed past.

  It wasn’t always other vehicles they smashed out of the way. The sound of many engines drew zombies out from all sorts of nooks and crannies. They were run down easily with a splat and crunch, occasionally leaving behind speckles of blood and other substances on the windows.

  Looking at the feed from the rear camera, it seemed as if their ride was a bit smoother. The front section of the truck took the brunt of the impact, leaving only minor tremors for those in the back. Part of Riley wished she could be in the back with them, but she hated not being able to see and knew she’d be just as uncomfortable. Cameron might even hyperventilate if she were packed in with that many people. The backs of the trucks had been okay for her before, because they had been relatively empty.

  “The road ahead is about to get bumpy,” their driver suddenly warned.

  Riley looked up from the camera feed and between the front seats. Their driver hadn’t said a word the entire time, so what did he see that made him decide to warn them?

  Trudging down the road ahead of them was a mass of flesh. The truck had risen over the top of a hill, and they had a good view of the massive horde below. They shuffled and stumbled around stalled cars, swallowing them with their bodies so that only the tallest roofs could be seen.

  “Jesus Christ,” Brunt muttered.

  “Where the hell did they all come from?” the man next to Riley asked.

  “Toronto,” Riley answered him.

  “Toronto? How could all those things come from Toronto?”

  “Easily,” Cameron answered this time, leaning into Riley for a better view. “There are over two and half million people in Toronto, more than double that of Leighton, which reached the million mark last year, if I remember right. Did you see how many zombies gathered around the prison? A lot. This is the Toronto horde, which likely formed by following survivors north.”

  “There’s no way they kept up with the survivors,” the man commented. The closer they got to the group, the easier it was see how slow and shambling they were. Yet as they noticed the trucks speeding toward them, they picked up the pace.

  “They didn’t,” Riley took over the answering again, her thought process totally in sync with her sister’s. “They’re not bright, not most of them anyway. The survivors headed this way, the horde followed after them, probably killing most of them and assimilating them into the group. Once the survivors were out of sight or dead, the zombies didn’t have anything to focus on. That doesn’t mean they were going to stop walking however. My guess is that in such a large group, as long as one zombie continues to move forward, remembering that this is the last direction in which they saw anything moving, the rest will just follow suit, assuming that first zombie knows what it’s doing.”

  “Ever been to a sports game?” Brunt added. “One person starts chanting and everyone else joins in. It’s like that, isn’t it? But with walking?”

  “Yeah.” Riley was never one for sports analogies, but it sounded about right in this case.

  “Here we go,” their driver said as the first zombie staggered toward the front of their rushing vehicle. It bounced off the plough and was thrown into the side of a Buick.

  The truck was surrounded instantly, although it was nothing like escaping from the prison. The driver kept his foot to the floor, smashing his way through the zombies as quickly as possible. The shear mass of them threatened to slow, and even worse, stop their forward movement. If zombies had been built of tougher stuff than flesh and bone, they never would have been able to make it through.

  Riley had spent a good portion of her life wishing that people were tougher, that the body could take more damage without falling apart. At this moment, she was wishing for the complete opposite. She wished that the zombies were more decomposed, dried out, and rotted; then they would have fallen apart so much more easily.

  A few grabbed onto the plough and the sides of the truck as it went by, but the bodies of all the other zombies whipping past always managed to scrape them back off.

  The first car appeared out of nowhere, slamming off them harder than any other cars had previously. While earlier they had been sort of trying to steer around abandoned vehicles and therefore hitting only the edges of them, this one was hit nearly full on. Riley reflexively grabbed the seat in front her during the impact, sparing herself from getting launched up onto Brunt’s lap. Her bag didn’t stop though and was thrown into the windshield. Brunt quickly pulled it out of their driver’s line of sight.

  Cameron pulled Riley back. There wasn’t enough room to get her seat belt on properly, so she wrapped it over one shoulder, and then wrapped her arms tightly around Riley. Riley held onto her sister as well, hoping they could both manage to stay in their seats.

  Another car appeared from nowhere, and then another. Every impact threatened to be their last. All it would take was the right set up of cars piled up against a cement barrier and they’d be fucked. It seemed like each impact was worse than the last, trying to throw those in the backseat out through the windshield. At least it let them know they hadn’t wandered off the road, which would have been entirely possible considering it couldn’t be seen for all the corpses standing upon it.

  There was a particularly bad impact with a mini-van and Riley heard Cameron’s shoulder pop out of place because of the seatbelt wrenching it. She screamed through clenched teeth but the Bishop girls kept holding on to one another, knowing they couldn’t do anything until they were out of this mess.

  Just like the departure from the prison, with a burst of sunlight they were suddenly free.

  “Deep breaths, Cameron, deep breaths,” Riley told her as she leaned over her sister and began to carefully remove her arm from the belt.

  “Woo,” Brunt sighed with relief, looking back with a goofy grin on his face. “Glad that’s over with.” He was sweating from the effort it took to keep all the bags, rifles, and other loose articles from interfering with their driver. Pretty much everything but the people from the backseat had ended up in the front.

  “I’m going to be with my wife,” the man near the door suddenly said.

  Before anyone could comprehend that he had even spoken, the door next to him was swung open, and he jumped out.

  Everyone was so shocked about what had just happened that it took nearly a minute before the man next to Riley leaned over and shut the door.

  “What the fuck?” Brunt shouted.

  The driver didn’t stop or even slow down. Not only could that result in suicide or the deaths of those behind them, he also knew it was pointless. At the speeds they were going, an impact with the pavement was crippling if not fatal. If he had managed to survive his jump, the horde would be upon him soon.

  In silence, the remaining man shifted over into his seat and buckled up. Riley helped Cameron into the middle position, climbing over her, and taking the other window seat so that she could take a look at her shoulder.

  “I’m going to need some help popping this back in,” Riley told the remaining man. She had put on her clinical voice, detaching herself from what she had just witnessed. It was so sudden and unexpected that she had no idea what to think of it.

  With the man applying counter-traction, Riley was able to pop Cameron’s shoulder back into place. Her sister moaned loudly with the sound of the snap. Brunt then looked through her bag and found Riley a bandage she was able to use as a sling for Cameron.

  Once that was done with, those in the back buckled in, now having enough room and enough seatbelts to do so, and Brunt handed their things back.

  “There might be some injuries in the back,” Riley said to their driver. It was hard to tell if what she was seeing on the camera was injury, or ju
st fright. The man who shared the rear seat with them had gotten a pretty bad fabric burn on his arm from one of the seat backs, so it was likely that at least some minor injuries had also occurred in the rear compartment.

  “We have a scheduled stop in another ten to twenty minutes,” the driver said. “It’s to top off our fuel and allow everyone a bathroom break. You can check out the other passengers then.”

  Riley nodded.

  They continued to ride in silence, with Riley still wondering about the man who had so suddenly jumped.

  ***

  Much of the drive was uneventful after that. They still hit vehicles and zombies, but didn’t run into another horde like that massive one. When they stopped, things went smoothly and efficiently. Everyone disembarked, stretched their legs, and used the flat, barren farm fields all around as a toilet. Many people were embarrassed, several complained, but no one tried to argue for some sort of change. Riley checked all the people from the back of their truck for injury. The worst was another dislocated shoulder, and a woman with a head laceration. Both of them would be fine. Thank God, they had no elderly in their truck, or else there could have been broken bones and heart attacks to deal with. The handful of kids was scared, but they were resilient and had taken their few bumps well.

  Knocked-over supplies were restacked, and the truck tanks were refuelled with a quick and practised ease. Everybody was quickly shepherded back into the trucks, and they were rolling again in less than fifteen minutes. Riley couldn’t even recall seeing a zombie closing in on them, but then she was busy enough not to get a good look around. However, she did get a chance to see just how much gore covered their truck. The plough was a deep red, and bits and pieces were still sliding down it and dripping off the undercarriage. Brunt went around, wiping off, and disinfecting the door handles so they wouldn’t have to touch any when they got back in.

  As they entered the more built-up Toronto area, Riley chose not to look at the scenery. Instead, she sat sideways, facing her sister, and talked about the last time Cameron had her shoulder pop out. This led to other discussions about times they had broken various bones or sustained certain injuries. Brunt and the other man joined in, telling them their own stories, but their driver remained as silent and stoic as ever.

  The next time they stopped, it was outside the gates to the airfield of Pearson International Airport.

  “This is where I get off. See you on the plane, or on the boat.” Brunt hopped out of the front of the truck to open the gates. He waved as they drove on without him, and the girls waved back. He’d be catching a ride the rest of the way with the last truck once it got through, and the gates could be closed.

  The airport was beautiful, and that wasn’t just because there was such hope placed upon it. The sun had set some time ago; it was nearing midnight. The moon was bright and full, bathing everything in a clear, silver light. The vast expanse all around was comforting after such close quarters.

  “Those the planes?” the man asked, leaning over Brunt’s unoccupied seat.

  No one bothered to answer as they obviously were. Although dimmed, due to the lateness, a glow of electric lighting shone out from every window.

  The truck pulled up to one of the planes and stopped parallel to a set of stairs leading up to the cabin. Riley, Cameron, their driver, and the other man, all climbed out and were greeted by a woman in a flight attendant’s uniform.

  “Glad you could make it!” she said chipperly. She glanced at the blood-caked hood and plough. “I guess you ran into the same horde as the others.”

  “So the Pummel Motel people made it?” the driver asked.

  “Yes, they’re already seated in the plane.”

  Riley kept looking around, but she couldn’t see Rufus’s plane anywhere. She thought for sure they would have been here by now.

  “Has a small plane shown up?” Riley asked the flight attendant.

  “No, sorry. Just the motel survivors and now you. Expecting someone?”

  “Yes. I told them to meet here.”

  “Well, we’re not leaving until morning. Perhaps they’ll show up before then.” The woman had clearly turned on her own work persona, being as happy and polite as possible. “And I wouldn’t worry if they don’t. You said a plane, right? Some of us already went around to places people might show up after we’re gone, leaving notes about how to find us. If they show up after we leave, they can just refuel and follow us out.”

  “Yeah, they know where to go after this.” Still, Riley had been so hoping to see them here already.

  “Let’s unload.” The driver went to the back to open the rear doors.

  Off-loading the trucks was done in a far calmer and slower manner than when they had been loaded. Only one truck at a time was done, the rest waiting in a patient line. Some more people came down from both planes and began to help load the large crates into the cargo hold. Riley felt odd, climbing up the steps and entering the passenger fuselage with her rifle in hand.

  “Can we sit in first class?” Cameron said behind her as they made their way through the plane.

  “We should reserve those seats for the sick and elderly,” Riley told her.

  “Oh come on, I’ve never gotten to ride first class.” Cameron was joking and Riley knew it. Her sister knew she was bummed about her friends not already being here and was trying to make her feel better.

  As they entered the economy section, they were greeted with the riotous noise of many excited children. The lights had been turned up to full brightness again, and nobody appeared to be sleeping. Riley couldn’t help but smile as she saw them all playing and laughing with each other. She hadn’t realized just how long it had been since she saw such happy kids. She and Cameron made their way past, aiming for seats behind the group. Riley subconsciously placed her hand on her belly as she walked.

  The two Bishops took their seats, stowing their gear under them and in the overheads. It was so weird to be boarding a plane. They relaxed for what seemed like the first time in forever as they watched the other passengers board. Even though Cameron took the window seat, Riley could still see out of it and saw the second plane begin loading as well. They had started off-loading two trucks at the same time, getting things done more quickly.

  “Juliet!” A woman screamed.

  Riley shot up, fearing the worst. She was grossly mistaken.

  “Mom!” a little girl’s voice replied.

  One of the women getting on the plane had been passing by the children when she spotted her own daughter among them. Both woman and child rushed toward each other, nearly knocking each other over as they met in an embrace. The mother burst into tears, as she collapsed to her knees from pure and utter joy at being reunited with her baby. Riley and many other passengers were moved to tears as well from the happy reunion.

  Riley returned to her seat, sniffling.

  “Look at you, being all emotional,” Cameron teased, a big dopey smile on her own face, the remains of tears not quite wiped off her cheeks.

  Riley laughed, and it felt so good and so happy. She genuinely believed at that moment that everything could be okay.

  “Mom, this is Lauren, the woman who took care of me,” Riley overheard the child saying.

  Lauren, Lauren, why did that name sound familiar to Riley?

  She shifted into the still empty aisle seat next to her and looked forward. A redheaded woman had just stood up, shaking hands, and receiving a thousand thank you’s from the still highly emotional mother.

  Red hair. Green eyes. Loads of freckles. Named Lauren. Lauren Sanford?

  “Excuse me?” Riley got up and walked toward the woman, leaving a confused Cameron behind.

  “Yes?” The woman with the fiery hair turned to face her.

  “Are you Lauren Sanford?”

  The woman looked greatly surprised. “I am. How did you-”

  “You know Abby Walker, right?”

  “Yes! Yes I do!” Lauren turned her full attention to Riley, leaving
the mother and child to go find seats.

  “I know her. She’s safe and she should be on her way here.”

  Lauren grabbed her into the biggest, tightest hug that Riley had ever experienced. She then released Riley, holding her at arms length.

  “She’s safe?” she asked for confirmation, not quite sure if she could believe Riley.

  “Last I heard, yes. She’s worried about you.”

  “And she’s coming here?”

  “Yes. In fact, I thought she’d be here already but they must have had a minor delay.” Riley refused to think it was anything more than that.

  Riley was swept up into another huge hug.

  “You said Abby’s coming?” a little girl’s voice piped up.

  Lauren released Riley and turned to the girl, nodding.

  “Yay!” the little girl began bouncing up and down in her seat ecstatically.

  “You have to tell me everything,” Lauren requested of Riley.

  “Yeah, sure, we have time.”

  Riley sat down with Lauren and told her everything she knew about what had happened to Abby before they met, and what had happened afterward. She told her about the cabin, the satellite phone calls, and finally her decision to get Cameron, which resulted in them learning about the boat.

  They talked until the lights were dimmed again, when Lauren had to tuck in a bunch of the kids. All the plane seats were tilted back, and blankets and pillows had been handed out.

  Riley curled up on her seat next to Cameron, thoughts of happy reunions dancing around her normally cold brain. She wondered what her reunion with Mathias would be like. She had told him they needed to end their relationship, but that had been a mistake; one she planned to correct the first moment she could.

  As she closed her eyes to sleep, she tried to hold onto the thoughts and feelings of joy. Unfortunately, they didn’t follow her down into sleep. Riley dreamt that everyone she knew was dead or undead.

 

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