by TW Gallier
"Lake Michigan doesn't border Canada, so I don't think they'll patrol that far south."
Jenny placed her finger on the map, measured the distance across the lake between Ludington, Michigan to Manitowoc, Wisconsin. Everyone paused to watch her.
"Are you out of your frigging minds?" Jenny cried. "That's almost a hundred miles of open water."
"No," I replied, but looked harder at the map. "No lake is that wide. Is it?"
"What's the matter with you, Roger? It's called a 'Great Lake' for a reason," she snapped. "Jesus Christ! You're not taking my children across that lake."
Everyone bent over the map to try and judge it. It no longer mattered. There was no way anyone would agree to crossing such a distance in small boats. I didn't know why I never considered how wide the lake was before that. Sean looked just as embarrassed as I felt.
"You have a point," Sean said, sounding defeated. "But do we want to go north and chance another encounter with the Canadian army? Or do we want to go around Chicago instead?"
"Chicago probably still has a million zombies," Brett said. "I say we go north. If the bridge is out, or guarded by Canadians, we can more easily boat across up there."
"If they are guarding the bridge, then maybe we can just find a spot and homestead," Fred said. "I'm sick and tired of putting my children in harm's way just to go somewhere that doesn't want us."
He had a point. I glanced at my children. Every encounter with other survivors or soldiers could kill or injure one of them. But was living in a no man's land the answer? Did anyone in our group know how to farm? At best, it would be a subsistence existence.
"Most of the zombies are gone now," Ally said. "When I was with the Rough Riders…" She paused to scowl, and I noticed the other women all became quiet and pensive. "Anyway, the guys were talking how the land was almost clear of them, and when it was the Colonel was going to pair them off with wives to start a new colony or country or something. But they thought the time was close."
"By end of summer," Michelle added. "She's right, they thought the land was almost ready to repopulate."
I caught Sean's eyes. He didn't look pleased. Looking around, it seemed the women were more in favor of settling down, while the men looked unmoved by the idea.
"We can revisit that idea later," Sean said. "We're not far enough away from Cincinnati as far as I'm concerned. Those boys will always be a threat to us, especially after our raid." He placed his finger on Mackinaw. "So it's agreed. We're heading north to Mackinaw. Once in Wisconsin or Minnesota we can reevaluate our ultimate goal. Some of you might choose to stop and settle the land, while others choose to continue on to civilization."
No one looked happy, but they all kept their mouth shut. That was a bad time to develop a schism. Worse, I couldn't figure out what Jenny wanted. She loved her modern luxuries, but she was a country girl at heart. And the more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of a simple life of hunting and farming. But what was best for our children?
"Mike, you're in the lead with the pickup. I'll follow in the sedan, with Terrel next in his van, and Roger bringing up the rear in his van," Sean said. He started tracing a route on the map. "I suggest we go west down Gibraltar Road to Flat Rock. Cross the Huron River there, and then take Will Carleton Road all the way do I-275 north to Novi, then West on I-96. In Brighton, take US-23 north to Flint, where we can get back on I-75 north. And then it's a straight shot up to Mackinaw."
Some didn't want to take such a convoluted route back to I-75, when the Interstate was just a short ways to the east. But Sean convinced them we had to make the Canadians think we were going away from the border, and I agreed. I saw little chance we could move on the roads without them spotting us.
Our outside guard, Jake, rushed through the door. "We have trouble. I can hear cars off in the distance, as well as multiple helicopters. It sounds like they are heading this way."
"Mount up!" I shouted. "We’re bugging out now."
Mike took the wheel of the pickup, with Charlie riding shotgun. Corinne, Tanya, and Michelle joined them in the back seat. Most of our food and drinks were in the back of the truck. Kate drove the sedan, with Sean riding shotgun. They were joined by Brett, Willa, and Sara. I drove the Van, with Fred riding shotgun. Jenny, our children, sat in back with Fred's children and Ally. At ten, we had the most people. Everyone else rode in Terrel's van.
Mike led us out of the maintenance bay door, up to Gibraltar Road, and then accelerated westward. I was more than a little anxious being last in line. Jenny sat in the very back, keeping an eye out for pursuit.
"I see two helicopters just above the horizon," she shouted.
Chapter 28
Roger
My first instinct was to warn the cars ahead of us, but we failed to work out a method of communicating while on the road. Fortunately, Mike took Sean's orders to lead us out of there as fast as possible to heart. Sean's sedan didn't have a problem keeping up, but the two minivans started to fall behind.
I didn't hear the helicopters firing upon us, but I saw the strikes in the ground to either side of the road. My shoulder muscles tightened painfully as my stomach clenched. There were too many abandoned cars on the road to do any kind of evasive maneuvers. Hell, it was all I could do to weave through that mess at that speed.
"I don't think they're shooting at us," Fred said.
"Are you joking?"
"No, their shots are twenty to thirty feet away to either side," he said. "They're just trying to scare us away."
"Well, they're doing a fuc – " Ally started to say. She caught herself with a glance at the kids. "They're doing a good job, because I'm about to wet my pants."
One of the helicopters flew past very low above us, continuing up the road to fly over the other three vehicles. The other helicopter was off to my left, probably waiting to see if we fired at the first helicopter. I prayed no one shot at them.
The helicopter turned around ahead of us, and then came back for another low flyby. My hands tightened on the wheel, expecting them to open fire. Neither side fired, so the helicopter passed by again.
"It's not coming back. I think it's just watching to see what we do," Jenny said. "And the other one is just watching us, too."
I still couldn't relax. What would they do if we did something they didn't like? What action on our part would trigger an attack?
Gibraltar ran due west through some mixed commercial and residential, but mostly the road passed through was undeveloped land. We reached Flat Rock surprisingly fast. At least it looked further on the map. The road veered to the right pretty dramatically once in Flat Rock, making me worry we were going to get lost. But US-24 appeared before I could dwell on it too much. Mike turned left on US-24 and headed southwest over the river and to Will Carleton Road, which was another straight shot west through mostly undeveloped country.
"The helicopters are turning away," Jenny said. "Thank God."
I took a deep breath, held it, and then slowly released. And I was still stressed to the max. The Canadians defending their border at and around Detroit had decided not to kill us, but what about the ones up in Upper Michigan? We were racing from one fight to another.
Flat Rock was a small town about halfway to I-275. The road only had about a quarter of the abandoned cars as Gibraltar and was mostly rural. We didn't see a single zombie or other survivor along the way. I suspected the Canadians were responsible for that, since they considered both threats to their security.
I-275 had more abandoned vehicles than I expected, but still not as bad as I-75 had been. We turned north on that Interstate, and were able to exceed the speed limit more often than not. So it didn't take long for us to reach a place that freaked me out for good reason.
"A fucking airport?" Fred cried.
"According to the signs, the Detroit Metropolitan Airport," Jenny said.
I could hear the stress in her voice. Ally fidgeted with big eyes. Even Mike slowed down a little as we approached.
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"Keep your eyes open for aircraft," I said. "Look for them in all directions."
I couldn't see any threat, but then there were a lot more abandoned cars on the road so I couldn't scan the skies much. We actually had to drive off the road a few times to get around multi-car pileups and such. Any dead had long rotted away, or had been eaten by zombies.
"Detroit is huge," Ally said. "I thought we were out of it long ago."
I was a little surprised too. How far out did the Detroit suburbs go? Once past the airport it was wall-to-wall bedroom communities. Residential subdivisions everywhere. And worse, the road continued to be filled with dead cars.
We passed over a couple more highways going east-west, and entered Canton, leaving nothing but houses to either side of the highway. There didn't seem to be an end of them.
"Watch out!" Fred cried.
Terrel was braking hard. I slammed on the brakes, but still tapped his bumper. Nothing major. As soon as we were stopped I heard it. Gunfire. Lots and lots of intense gunfire.
"There's a firefight up ahead," Fred shouted.
I spotted them up atop the overpass. Two groups of survivors were battling it out. Both sides appeared to be on foot, using cars and trucks as cover as they moved around trying to gain an advantage. They took a few shots at us, but remained fixated on each other at the moment.
I didn't think that would last long.
Mike figured it out, and turned off the road to the left, crossed the median, and then drove off the other side of the southbound side. Heading for the onramp. There wasn't a service road along that stretch of highway.
Sean followed. Since his sedan was traversing the open ground okay, I knew my minivan would make it, too. But I did glance at the woods to our right, wondering if that would be a safer route. We could always find more vehicles. And there was no guarantee we could go around the small battle.
Terrel and I followed the other vehicles, and were soon driving the wrong way on the onramp. Mike and Sean accelerated down the ramp, and then did fishtail turns westward on the road below. The reason was soon obvious. The other groups were fighting down in the median and under the overpasses, too.
Terrel accelerated after them, and I followed. We didn't take the turn as fast as the first two vehicles, but we didn't waste time, either. A bullet took out our rear window as I was turning onto the road.
"Jenny! Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," she said. I found her in my rearview mirror. She was combing glass out of her hair with her fingers. "Is everyone else okay? Ally, can you check all of the kids?"
Most of the glass was still in place, but impossible to see through due to the million cracks spider-webbing through it. Jenny used her rifle butt to smash out the back onto the road, and quickly cleared it away.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered.
I glanced into my rearview to see her taking aim out the back. So I looked behind us and spotted a Mustang convertible and a Jeep speeding up behind us. Armed men filled both vehicles.
Pappa-pap-pap! Pappa-pap-pap-pap!
Jenny's first couple bursts took out the Mustang. She must've hit the driver, because it veered sharply and flipped multiple times. The Jeep didn't stop, but continued after us.
Gunfire began whizzing past us. I saw a window in Terrel's vehicle shatter.
Pappa-pap-pap-pap-pap! Pappa-pap-pap-pap! Pappa-pap-pap-pap-pap!
Jenny's return fire hit several of the men in the Jeep. I saw them dropping, and two fell out of it. The driver hit the brakes and we left them behind.
"Keep an eye out for them," I called. "I don't trust these savages at all."
By that time we were out of the residential area and into a more rural setting. It changed pretty abruptly, too. The road began to clear a little, allowing us to pick up speed. We were doing 60 MPH by the time we reached an intersection with a small highway. Mike stopped and we got out to discuss the situation.
"Do you want to go right on this highway?" Mike asked.
The map said it was M-14, which I assumed meant Michigan Highway 14. It ran from the north of Ann Arbor northeastward to I-275. We'd probably still be in Canton at that point, but well north of the battle site. That didn't mean we'd be safe from the men fighting back there. On the other hand, we were more than halfway to Ann Arbor, so I studied the map to see if there was a better path to take.
"Look here, I think it'll be better to go west on M-14 to US-23 on the other side of Ann Arbor. US-23 is actually closer than I-275 and probably less travelled, so safer." I traced US-23 with my fingers as the others watched. "We take it up through Brighton and up to Flint, where it merges with I-75 North."
"Perfect," Jenny said. "I-75 goes straight up to Mackinaw."
"Well, that's our plan until someone else screws it up," Sean said.
"Knock on wood!" Kate cried. "Don't jinx us."
"My bad," Sean said. "Mike, Saginaw is north of Flint, and appears to be near the end of civilization if this map is right. Somewhere between Flint and Saginaw might be a good place to stop and refuel."
I nodded. Technically, we should be able to drive all of the way to Mackinaw on one tank of gas, but why take chances. We might have to take detours. There could be other reasons we were delayed, and ended up burning more gas.
"Once we get past Saginaw, we'll be home free," Brett said. "Fewer people lived up there, so fewer survivors and zombies. I like it. It's practically Canada, except with no utilities."
"Maybe we should just find a place up there and live," Michelle said, and others nodded.
"I think it's too soon to make such a decision," Sean said. "Besides, it's the Canadians that worry me. They might decide to clear all of Michigan to create a no man's land buffer zone along the border. We can revisit this idea after we reach Wisconsin."
Sounded good to me. I didn't go through all that hell to give up on civilization so easily. I wanted my children to have a good life, and an easier life than that of a subsistence homesteader. And there was no way the Canadians could defend the full length of their border with the US. We'd get in somewhere.
Moments later, we were back on the road. The highway was relatively clear of clutter, though we had to leave the road a couple times to get around massive wrecks. Most of the way was at or near posted speeds. And then we found US-23 north pretty clear as well.
Ann Arbor to Flint only took an hour. I was starting to think we'd reach Mackinaw with plenty of daylight left. After all, it didn't get dark until around 9 PM that time of year.
"You know what, Fred," I said. "I bet you we reach Wisconsin today."
"I was thinking the same thing," he replied. "It all depends on what we find at Mackinaw."
As we approached the merge with I-75 south of Flint, Mike slowed down and came to a stop next to a line of abandoned cars and pickups. There were some hotels, restaurants, and other retail around that intersection. If those vehicles didn't have enough gas, we had plenty of opportunity to find the gas we needed to top off.
"This is going to take a few, so everyone can get out and stretch your legs," I said.
We stopped in a line next to the other cars. As the women and children walked around and chatted with friends in other vehicles, the drivers grabbed the single six-gallon gas can we had out of the pickup's bed. It was full, which Mike used to top off his pickup. Then we took it over to an older vehicle. Some of the newer cars and trucks were setup to keep people from siphoning gas. Which was just wrong.
Terrel took the can, and soon had gas flowing into the can. I looked the other vehicles over, trying to decide which ones we could siphon. And then I heard a small cry of alarm.
"Halt!" a man shouted. Then several others did as well. "If anyone moves, you're dead."
As I slowly turned my head to see five heavily armed men in camo, another group came up on the other side of the cars. We were surrounded. And more men were coming from behind the steel barrier in the middle of the median, as well as the ditch on the other side of the road.
Chapter 29
Jenny
A man in camo thrust an Uzi in my face, forcing my head back. More men were coming up from behind the abandoned cars. I vaguely remembered a swampy looking ditch over there, below a rise to the off ramp and surrounding country.
"I'm a mother!" I cried.
He was a head taller than me and looked mid-twenties, dark hair, angry eyes.
"Don't fight them, Jenny!" Roger shouted.
Fighting them wasn't my concern. My kids' safety was first and foremost in my thoughts. But the man didn't kill me. He snatched the rifle out of my hand and then backed me against the minivan. I tensed when he grabbed my left boob, but then he began patting me down. It was still lewd, and he managed to touch and linger upon all my most private parts.
"Remove the pistol belt. Slowly," he growled. "If you even look like you might try for the gun, I'll blow your brains out, bitch."
I did as ordered, slowly unfastening the belt holding my pistol and machete. I let it fall to the ground at my feet. That seemed to piss him off. If he wanted me to do something else, then he should've said so.
I glanced left and right. All of the children were already herded off to the side on my left, behind the last car in line, and forced to sit down. One man stood guard over them. Kate was to my left, with Sonya on my left. Both were being disarmed and patted down just as inappropriately. My captor had a fistful of my tank in his free hand, and the Uzi still in my face.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked. "We're just like you, trying to survive. We didn't attack you."
"You said it," he replied. "We're trying to survive and you have what we want. So we're taking it."
"Fine. Take the food and weapons, but leave us alone."
He looked me up and down, and then caught my eyes. "We're taking you, too."
My blood ran cold. He was staring at my chest, with a look in his eyes that said all I needed to know. I'd seen that look too often, even before the world went to hell.