Out of immediate danger now, they walked ahead slowly and hugged the left side of the street. The neighborhood changed to small storefronts, mixed in with the apartment buildings. They crossed another street and fell in alongside a three-story brick building.
Cars were crammed in tight along the fully congested street. Ahead, Jacob could begin to see the Skyway overpass. They paused and knelt to look down at the slowly descending elevation of the street as it dropped under the highway. Jacob strained his eyes trying to see into the dark shadows below the overpass. As he looked, the shadows appeared textured and to have movement. He blinked his eyes and looked away, trying to focus. They appeared like smoke as the shadows moved and twisted to roll in on themselves.
“We have to find another way,” Stephens whispered. “I don’t wanna go down there.”
The smoke moved up the road in their direction. As the mass caught the moonlight, they materialized into a wide-bodied parade of men and women pressing against each other shoulder to shoulder and spreading out as they escaped the confines of the tunnel. As they moved into the light, the mass picked up speed, spread out, and flooded the open ground like water running from a hose.
Murphy turned to the building and Jacob followed his gaze; the windows were barred and there was no time to cross the street. Jacob spun to look behind them at the way they’d come and saw it would be a long run to the corner to get to any cover. Murphy grabbed Jacob’s arm. “No time… into the street,” he whispered.
“What? No way!” Tyree said from where he hid behind Stephens.
“Get under the cars. We have to let them move past us,” Murphy ordered as he rushed hunched over to the curb. Jacob ran up the street in the direction of the approaching mass, following Murphy. Searching for the right spot, they found a long and wide delivery truck with cars pressed against it on either side. Murphy removed his pack and tossed it under the back bumper before dropping to his belly and low crawling in after it. Jacob followed and did the same then he felt Tyree and Stephens crawl up close behind him.
Jacob crawled onward, thankful that the vehicle was high enough that he could lift his head. Murphy was nearly to the front of the vehicle, under the engine. He was lying on his back with his rifle on his chest, head to the side. Jacob moved to his heels but stayed on his belly. He laid his head flat against the damp pavement just as the first of the Others moved in alongside the truck.
They didn’t shamble along or stagger like drunks; they walked calmly, like mall walkers or pedestrians on a busy sidewalk. They didn’t moan or breathe heavy, no talking or simple chatter; just moving one after another to form lines that twisted through the maze of congested cars. They smelled—not like human body odor or retched flesh—but like sulfur, burning rubber, or the fresh spray of a skunk—only sweeter and not so pronounced. It wafted under the truck and surrounded Jacob and Murphy.
Jacob lifted his arm and forced his face into his sleeve. A car alarm far ahead sounded, probably as one of the black-eyes bumped into it. The mass seemed stimulated by the noise; their pace picked up and they moved along at a near jog. When they thinned out, stragglers ran to catch up. Jacob looked at the dial on his watch; they’d lain under the truck for nearly twenty minutes—the mass seemed endless. Every time he thought they’d all passed, another group would move out and run to join the others.
After a long bout of silence, Murphy looked back at them. “Wait here,” he whispered then quietly rolled to his belly and crawled forward. He moved out in front of the truck and took a knee. He dropped his hand and signaled for Jacob to join him. Jacob began crawling until he cleared the front bumper. Murphy pointed to a small Volkswagen ahead on the left. Jacob nodded and, staying hunched over, moved beside it to take a kneeling position.
He heard a light clang of metal on metal and froze. Turning his head, he could see that Murphy had heard it too. The soldier dropped and spun on his heels. He lifted his rifle and took a step forward, looking high over a car to their front. Rapid-fire shots rang out and the windshield of the delivery truck exploded.
Murphy returned fire, providing cover while Stephens rolled from under the vehicle and let his weapon join the fight. “Get your rifle up, Jacob!” Murphy said.
Jacob hesitated and looked around, searching for cover, as he witnessed the two soldiers square off to the threat, weapons up, firing, and walking directly into the enemy. Tyree was quickly on his feet and following close behind Stephens, the pistol gripped tight by both hands while he fired ahead. Jacob took a deep breath and stepped off before stopping again. “The bags,” he called out, talking about the rucksacks at the back of the truck.
“Move up, dammit!” Murphy ordered. “Leave them!”
Jacob leveled his rifle and fired at the muzzle flashes coming from ahead. The dark space under the bridge lit up like a field of fireflies. Jacob moved straight on, facing them, ducking behind cars then aiming at the flashes before pulling the trigger, finding a new target, moving, ducking, and firing again. While they moved, the fireflies dimmed as their numbers dwindled. Soon, they were at the entrance to the tunnel.
Murphy held up an arm to pause the group before leaning back and resting against a sedan as he changed out the magazine in his rifle. Jacob walked forward and joined him, mimicking Murphy’s movements to
