by Tony Urban
“Back at you, beautiful. You go on now.”
She turned away at last. He was so glad he didn’t have to see her face anymore. Now he could let his own tears flow. He watched her go. She needed to stand on her tiptoes before she could catch Wim’s hand. She did, he hauled her up.
She didn’t look back as Wim ushered her away. Wim did look one last time. Bundy never thought a simple nod could appear to be a sad gesture, but that’s what Wim did and that’s what it was. Bundy flicked the lighter and lit the fuse. “Take care of them, Wim.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“That’s all any of us can do.”
Wim left. Bundy heard frantic voices as the gunshots stopped. He heard the Bronco’s tires spinning against the asphalt and the sound grew quieter and quieter as it retreated.
Bundy sat the dynamite, with its blazing fuse, on top of the other 20 or so sticks that filled the box. He never got to use explosives the way he planned, but that was all right.
“Been a hell of a ride, boss.”
He let his eyes fall shut. He had no desire to see what followed.
They were a mile away when the explosion shook the car. Wim looked in the side mirror and saw orange smoke drift upward, marring the blue sky. He reached for Ramey. She took his hand between her own and raised it to her lips and kissed his fingers. They didn’t say anything. There weren’t any words.
50
Wim drove nearly an hour before he found an alternate route. No one in the car had spoken a word. That changed when they stumbled upon a roadblock of abandoned vehicles. Over two dozen cars and trucks covered the roadway. Even the embankments were blocked. Going around them would be impossible.
“What should we do now, William?” Emory asked.
Wim wasn’t interested in being in charge, but it happened by default. Wim stared at the jumble of cars, trucks, and SUVs. They hadn’t passed more than five houses in the previous half hour and Wim knew there was no way all these vehicles came together by chance. This was intentional. He opened the door.
“Let’s stretch our legs.”
Ramey slid out first. Wim followed. He watched the Bronco as Emory attempted to cajole Mina outside. Eventually, he did.
“Let me see that map again,” Wim said to Ramey.
She pulled it from her back pocket and when Wim unfolded it he found the seams were so worn, it was ready to fall to pieces. He tried to compare it to the route they’d taken and, so far as he could tell, it matched up near perfect.
“It looks like there’s a third way in but it’ll take us a few hours out of the way. Maybe more depending on the roads.”
Ramey watched him closely. He thought she could see through him like a pane of glass and tried to avoid her gaze.
“Wim? Are we there?”
Wim didn’t answer. He tried to think of a decent fib but before he could come up with one, a metallic clang on the pavement got his attention. Ramey heard it too, and they looked to see a canister not much larger than a soda can spewing a cloud of yellow gas. That was joined by four more.
Wim tried to grab Ramey, to get them back to the Bronco, but his head was foggy. He saw Mina fall to the ground. Then Emory.
“Wim?” Ramey called out, her voice sounded miles away.
His feet felt like they weighed a thousand pounds each and he couldn’t make himself move. He reached for Ramey but he could no longer see her through the thick smoke. He thought he heard something akin to heavy machinery but before he could make a point to listen, the world went dark.
I’m so cold, Wim thought as he slowly regained consciousness. Why was he cold? The day had been hot. He felt like someone was pricking him over and over again with icicles. His eyes fluttered, then opened. Everything was white. He thought that was due to the brightness and that his eyes hadn’t adjusted yet, but as things came into focus, he saw white walls. A white ceiling.
He turned onto his side to avoid the icy assault. He saw a figure wearing, of course, white. Its face was hidden behind an opaque mask. The figure aimed a hose at him and something cold and wet like water, but with a chemical smell, rained on him.
As his mental fog cleared, he realized the person hosing him down was wearing a HazMat suit. He climbed to his knees and when he did, he saw he was naked. He tried to cover himself with his hands and the person with the hose laughed.
“No need for modesty. I’m the one who stripped you down in the first place.”
When he finished spraying Wim, the person handed him a towel. “Wipe yourself down good so there’s no residue. There’s new clothes over there.” He pointed to the corner where clothing was folded in a neat pile.
The man left and while Wim dried off he wondered about the residue. He couldn’t make sense of any of this. How did he even get here?
After he dressed, he moved toward a slit in the plastic wall through which sunlight spilled. Wim pushed at it and stepped into the open.
He saw two identical tents, but not the man with the hose. Or anyone at all. Parked nearby was an M-35 Cargo Truck with an open air bed. He remembered the rumbling engine he’d heard in the fog and assumed that might be a match. But there was no driver. He decided to explore the area and hoped to locate his friends.
Wim found them clustered together a dozen yards away from a floating dock. In his glee to see his companions, he didn’t give much thought to the dock or the lake beyond it. He barely noticed the motorboat tied off there, or the man inside it.
Instead, he rushed to his friends. They all wore white drawstring pants and white cotton shirts, the same wardrobe Wim had been given. Ramey saw him approaching and her face lit up.
“Wim!” She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck.
“Where are we?”
She shook her head. “I just woke up a few minutes ago. We all did.” She ran her hand through his still damp hair. “You got a bath too?”
“Yep. Not a very pleasant one either.”
She tried to smile but couldn’t force one through the fear. Wim wanted to hold on to her and tell her everything was going to be okay, but he knew she’d see through that in a second.
He had no time to say anything because the man in the boat shouted. “Down here!”
Another man dropped over the hill behind them. He approached the foursome.
“This way, please.” He ushered them toward the boat.
Wim hesitated. "Can you tell us what’s going on?"
The man shook his head. “They’ll give you more information at registration.”
“Registration?”
The man didn’t elaborate. “Climb aboard, friends. You’re safe now.”
Wim and Emory exchanged a skeptical gaze. Wim put his hand on Ramey’s shoulder and squeezed it. He leaned in close to her ear. “I don’t think we’re in a position to protest.”
“I think you’re right.”
The man on shore helped them into the boat. The driver gave them life vests.
“Safety first.”
He flashed a warm smile. Once they all suited up, the boat took off.
Their journey by water took less than 15 minutes. They reached another dock where the driver tied up, then helped them step off.
Ahead, a sprawling, wooden wall stretched 25 feet into the air. A gate large enough to fit a tractor trailer swung open from the top down and it reminded Wim of a drawbridge without a moat.
Ramey leaned in close to him. “What the hell's going on?”
“I haven’t the foggiest.”
The boat driver pointed to the opening. “Head inside. Registration’s to the left.”
He sped away, kicking up a spray of water.
They trekked the 20 yards to the opening. When they passed through they discovered what looked like a village.
Dozens of people tended to gardens, did construction on buildings, and went about life as usual. A few children dashed back and forth, tossing and chasing Frisbees. Wim even saw something that made his nerves almost disappear, chicke
ns roaming freely and a half dozen pigs loitering about.
Registration was located inside a yurt. A middle-aged, brunette with her hair pulled up in a bun stood inside and checked them in, asking their names, age and home state. Ramey was up after Wim.
“Ramey Younkin. 18. New York.”
The woman looked confused or surprised, Wim couldn’t tell which. She scurried to a man with a long, gray ponytail and they traded whispers. Wim tried his best to eavesdrop, but they were too far away.
As they finished their private conversation, the man made a beeline to Ramey. “Hello Ramey. I’m Victor. Please come with me.”
Ramey held her ground. “No. I won't leave my friends.”
The man chewed his lip and Wim noticed he was rocking on his feet.
"How about you pick one?” Victor said.
Ramey chose Wim and the two were whisked away. Emory raised his eyebrows as they passed. Wim shrugged his shoulders.
Once outside, Ramey demanded, “Tell me where you're taking us.”
Wim didn’t expect her to get an answer and was surprised when one came. “Nothing to be worried about. We’re going to see Doc.”
“Who’s Doc?” she asked.
"He's our founder." Victor didn't expound further because they stopped outside a small log cabin.
“Now what?” Ramey asked Victor.
He gave a wide, warm smile. “Go in. Doc’s waiting for you.”
He strolled away, leaving them alone. Ramey looked to Wim, unsure. “What do you think? Should we go in?”
Wim felt apprehensive about what laid behind the door but the map had brought them all to this point. It was time to find out what really waited for them at the X. He nodded.
Ramey took his hand and pulled the door open. Together they stepped inside.
The cabin was dark despite two large skylights in the ceiling. Wim saw the shape of a man behind a large desk. A manila folder covered his face.
“Hello? They said you were expecting us,” Ramey said and Wim noticed a quiver in her voice he’d never heard before. It wasn’t exactly fear, but it was close.
The man peered up and a kerosene lantern cast yellow light onto his face. The first thing Wim noticed was a large, purple birthmark on his cheek. Its shape made him think of learning geography in elementary school. "Italy is the boot."
When Doc's face came into view, Ramey dropped Wim’s hand. Doc broke into an ecstatic grin.
Ramey ran to him. “Daddy!”
They collided in an embrace. Wim heard her sobbing. He suddenly felt very much like a third wheel and tried to distract himself by looking around the cabin.
The walls were covered with maps and diagrams of chemical structures that may as well have been some alien language for as much sense as they made to Wim. He spotted a large calendar for the month of May. One day was circled in red and the word "Philadelphia" was written inside it.
Wim remembered that time well. It was only two days before life on his farm ceased to exist. A shiver ran up his spine but he tried to ignore it.
It seemed like hours passed before Ramey and her father broke their embrace. When they did the man wiped the tears from her eyes with his fingertips. “Oh Ramey,” he said. “I was so worried.”
Ramey composed herself, at least somewhat. "I was too. I thought you were dead. Like everyone else."
“Your mother?”
Ramey gave a quick nod.
“I’m so sorry. So, so sorry, Ramey. But I’m glad you’re here. This makes me happier than you could ever imagine.”
Ramey turned to Wim. “Wim brought me to you. He saved my life.”
Her father strode toward him and shook his hand. His grip was firm, but Wim thought his hand clammy. “A million thanks to you. Wim, is it?"
Wim nodded. “Thanks aren’t necessary. Your daughter is more than capable of taking care of herself. She had little choice, being left alone.”
Doc flinched, a tic so quick it could have been easy to miss, but Wim noticed and he was glad.
"She’s a resilient girl. Always has been." Doc turned back to Ramey. "Let me show you both around."
He led them out of the cabin and into the common areas. He showed them a schoolhouse, several small gardens, even some dairy cows. He pointed out a few dozen small houses. “Less than half are occupied at the present. We’re hoping to bring in others. I heard there were four in your party?”
“There were more, at one point,” Wim said.
Doc didn’t acknowledge that comment. As he showed them a communal dining room, Ramey cut him off.
“Daddy, what is this place?”
Doc smiled. Perhaps Ramey found the look to be joyful but Wim saw something else. To Wim, Doc's smile held the weight of a man who'd just won a war. His eyes were full of pride and, when Wim got another shiver up his spine, he didn’t ignore it.
Doc reached over and pushed a lock of Ramey’s hair off her face. Like he wanted her to have a good look at what he had created.
“This is the Ark. This is where the world starts over.”
THE END
If you enjoyed Road of the Damned (and I sure hope you did), please take a moment to join my mailing list to receive news about the upcoming books in the series as well as my other books and stories. You’ll also receive first chance at discounts and specials. http://eepurl.com/P8lc9
Author’s Note
Thank you! I’m amazed at the success of the “Life of the Dead” series and I hope you’ve enjoyed books 1 and 2. I can never thank my readers enough for taking a chance on a new author and for investing your time into reading about the characters and worlds I’ve created. It’s a dream come true and I’ll be forever grateful.
Road of the Damned was a wildly fun book to write. While I loved the origins of these characters in Hell on Earth, I was excited to see what they’d do when they hit the road and started meeting each other. As I progressed through multiple drafts, some of their fates changed but the bones remained the same. What do you think will happen now that our survivors are coming together? I’d love to hear any guesses or theories!
I’m currently writing Book 3 - The Ark. Initially I thought it might be the 3rd and final book in the series but the further I get, the more I’m starting to believe we’re in store for a 4th book as well. It will all depend on the characters!
I’ve already heard from readers all over the US and Canada and in places like the UK, Australia, Columbia and the Philippines. I’m blown away to know the book I wrote in rural Pennsylvania is now being read all over the globe. Again, thank you for taking a few hours out of your life to take a chance on this book and on me!
I love hearing from readers, it absolutely makes my day, so if you’d like to reach out, please visit my website or send me a friend request on Facebook. The links are:
www.tonyurbanauthor.com Facebook.com/tonyurban
Tell me about your favorite characters, your favorite scenes, and what you think will happen next!
Happy Reading!
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Epigraph
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Author's Note
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Title Page
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
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46
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Author's Note