Vin definitely hadn’t slept well, though he seemed to adjust the best. And Marty suffered no lasting effects from his accident.
Janice admitted to herself that she hadn’t cared for anyone in years like she cared for these people, and she’d known them for only a week, Jocelyn for just twelve hours. In fact, she cared more for these people than she did for her mother who died five years ago. Her emotional attachment to these people was frightening, because she didn’t see it as natural. Maybe this was her reaction to the apocalypse. Maybe this was her way of grieving for society. Maybe she simply hadn’t forgotten what it was like to be a nurse, and she instinctively fulfilled a sorely needed role.
Janice was thankful that after a half-hour of walking, they reached the rental car lot without incident. They all followed Vin as he walked up to one of five identical large passenger vans, complete with side sliding door and rear barn doors.
“I see the key fob inside,” Vin said. “It’s probably unlocked.”
He tried the driver’s door, and it was, indeed, unlocked, and he then opened the barn doors in the back. Janice saw two captain’s chairs up front and two rows of bench seats in the back, with plenty of room for cargo in the rear.
“This will work,” Vin said. Janice thought this an understatement—it was perfect . . . if it would start. As if reading Janice’s thoughts, Vin said, “Alexander, do you want to try turning it on?”
“Can you hold Emily?” Alexander asked Janice.
Janice was glad to do that. She couldn’t carry her for a half-hour while walking, but she wanted to care for Emily like only a mother could. Even if she had never been a mother.
Alexander walked over to the driver’s door, opened it and climbed in. A few seconds later, Janice heard the roar of the engine. Everyone gave a little cheer, and though Vin “shushed” them, he gave a big grin.
“Alexander, is there gas?” Vin asked.
“Full tank,” Alexander said.
Janice gave a slight gasp. It seemed too good to be true.
Emily stirred. “What’s going on?” She said, yawning, looking still half-asleep.
“We’re going to our new home,” Janice said, fighting back tears.
They all filled the seats, Janice and Emily in the rear. Alexander drove and Vin sat shotgun.
“Colorado Springs, here we come!” Alexander said as they pulled out of the rental car lot, breaking the wooden arm of the closed gate.
“What’s wrong with your face?” Marty asked Jocelyn, who was seated with Jize in the second row.
So, Marty noticed it too.
Jocelyn sighed. “Why do you say that?”
“Never mind,” Marty said. He grunted.
“The bad man hit my mommy’s head on the steps,” Emily said.
They avoided traffic jams the same way Marty had—driving on side roads, sidewalks, median strips, parking lots, vacant lots, and the wrong way—though it was slow going.
Back at the supermarket, the sun emerged above a nearby mountain while they gathered up their clothing, backpacks, sleeping bags, food, and other supplies. Apprehension crept in, and Jocelyn got a vague feeling they were being watched, but she just chalked it up to her anxiety over the situation. Loading up the van made them vulnerable to attack, by zombies or anyone else.
Glad she didn’t feel that tingling on the back of her neck, Jocelyn couldn’t remember when it had stopped, but she recalled not feeling it during her encounter with Alexander in the pharmacy.
They loaded the van without incident, though Vin and Marty took turns standing guard.
At one point Marty walked away from his post and talked with Vin, though she couldn’t overhear what they said. But after that, Marty jogged back in the van’s direction, and Vin walked up to her.
“How much of that did you hear?”
“Nothing. What’s going on?”
“Marty thought he saw movement near the apartments across the road. It’s probably nothing, but pick up the pace. I’ll tell the others.”
If Jocelyn’s instincts were correct, and they were being watched, then it wasn’t from draugar. Draugar don’t lurk and watch. Or do they? Jocelyn shuddered and jogged with her bag of food to the van.
A hardware store near the market on a road parallel to the rental car lot was their first stop. As they approached, the prickly, burning sensation returned to the back of Jocelyn’s neck.
While Marty and Alexander looted the place for things like gas cans, bolt cutters, and other useful things they didn’t find at the supermarket, two draugar appeared, each looking into the van through the two front seat windows.
Jocelyn, seated next to the window on the left side of the van, on the second row of seats, was about to cry out when she realized the two draugar weren’t attacking but instead merely looking inside. No one occupied the driver’s seat, but Vin was in the front passenger seat, only a thin pane of glass separating him from one draugar. Vin had his eyes shut and didn’t seem to notice.
Were they looking for her, as Alexander had suggested? She had the inspiration to try telepathically communicating with them like she could do with animals and plants. Why not draugar? She zeroed in on the one next to Vin, crossed her fingers—a trigger that put herself in a light, meditative state. However, she only had enough time to get “hungry for brains” before Vin exclaimed, “Holy shit!” and broke her communication link.
Behind her, Janice screamed. Beside her, Jize yelled, “What’s wrong?”
The draugar disappeared from the front windows. One, at the window of the side door, pushed the van, listing it to the left. Out came Vin’s shotgun as the van rocked back to the right. He climbed back into the second row, stepping on Jize’s foot.
“Ouch!”
Vin pulled the sliding door open. A draugar, outside the door, with a torn t-shirt and one of those sores on its arm, immediately lunged forward into a shotgun blast to the chest. But the van
