“Maybe we should get Rocky in the cab with us,” Henry said, glancing over his shoulder. He sounded a trifle more nervous than before. No matter how many zombie flicks he’d seen the real thing put them to shame.
You can’t smell the blood in movies, Raven thought, shivering. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Pull over and I’ll get him real quick.”
“Okay,” Henry agreed. “Let’s put a little distance between us and that first.” He gestured behind him without looking.
Raven stared out of the window, watching the rolling hills turn into steep mountains as they ascended quickly into the Rockies. It had begun to mist heavily and everything was green and damp. The afternoon sky was dark and filled with ominous clouds. Thunder rumbled off in the distance, rolling through the sky.
“This is really happening,” Raven spoke, mostly to herself.
“It sure fucking is,” Henry responded, pulling into a long-abandoned rest area. There was a large outcropping of rock, covered with asphalt and those stationary telescopes that tourists look through for fifty cents. Two dilapidated port-a-johns sat next to the rocks, green paint flaking off. The door on one swung open with a breeze, banging against the rocks. Raven jumped and laughed nervously.
Henry slowed to a stop in the middle of the parking lot, far away from any trees or picnic benches that anything could hide behind.
Raven reached for the door handle.
“Be careful,” Henry spoke, looking around. “Take your axe.”
Raven grabbed her weapon, tightening her fingers around it. “I will,” she said, voice breathy.
It was a strange feeling, being afraid to get out of the truck and perform something as simple as getting her dog into the cab. Henry was stronger and could probably do it faster but she couldn’t drive so he stayed behind the wheel.
“Come on, Rocky,” she said, feigning cheerfulness. “Let’s go.”
Rocky poked his head up from beneath the blankets and sneezed.
“Come over here,” Raven said, putting the tailgate down and beckoning.
A twig snapped behind her and Raven whirled, axe held slightly away from her body, heart in her throat. Nothing moved in the trees; a cool breeze skittered a cluster of leaves across the parking lot in a blur of red and orange. She could hear Rocky walking across the truck bed, toenails clicking in the metal. She thought absently that it was about time to trim his claws again. Then he was behind her, breath hot on the back of her neck. She stared at the trees, trunks of pines, maples and elders, and waited. The only sounds were the pattering of rain and Rocky’s panting. She turned back to her dog. The hairs on the back of her neck stood at attention.
“Get down,” she commanded. “Don’t run off.”
Rocky jumped from the truck bed and stood by her side. He stared into the trees. A noise came floating on the breeze, quiet at first then louder. The shuffle of feet on the ground caused a shiver to run the length of Raven’s spine.
“Come on, hurry,” Henry said, leaning out the driver’s side window, gesturing frantically. He glanced to the tree line.
Raven saw, to her dismay, a man stumble out of the trees. He was short and clothed only in a pair of torn boxer shorts. The bottom of his face was missing, leaving only his upper jaw and tongue. The muscular organ, waggled back and forth, dripping blood and saliva. His menacing growl could be heard across the space between them.
“Fuck, Raven!” Henry whispered forcefully. “Hurry up.”
Raven took a deep breath and hustled Rocky around the truck by his collar. He jumped inside and she followed, slamming the door shut.
The zombie man let out a harsh scream and raced toward them, bare feet slapping the wet asphalt.
“Go, go,” Raven urged.
Henry threw the truck into gear and made a quick U-turn, racing out of the tourist spot that could’ve become a death trap and back onto the steep mountain road.
They were quiet for a while. Rocky panted and Raven stared out of the window, trying not to think. It was a losing battle and her mind raced. What are we going to do after we get to the cabin? she worried. She knew they’d brought enough food to last for quite some time — bags two and three — but eventually their supplies would run out and they would have to go back into town. Save that for later, she told herself firmly. Let’s just get there and see what’s what.
“How much longer?” Raven asked.
Henry sighed. “Less than an hour.” He checked the rearview constantly.
Raven knew what he was looking for and she dearly hoped that they’d left it far behind them.
At the Cabin
They pulled up to the cabin at a little after one in the afternoon. The truck’s tires crunched across dirt and gravel, leaving clear impressions behind them.
“Once we get settled,” Henry said. “We should rub out those tracks.”
“Okay,” Raven agreed, staring at the cabin. It was bigger than she had imagined; two stories with an enclosed balcony on the second floor. It was an authentic looking log cabin with a shake roof, tightly fitted wooden shingles that looked fairly new, and no visible windows on the bottom floor. “Hmm,” Raven hummed, petting Rocky’s head. His coat had come off some time ago, as it was warm in the cab. Raven grabbed it and shoved it into bag one. The drizzle had quickly turned to a deluge while they drove, soaking the dog’s
