“I thought I told you to turn this shit heap around?”
“Hey look, pup,” Bill began smartly, “our finding the highway might not be your problem, but maybe they are.” He pointed behind the soldier. “I don’t think they care that the road is closed.”
The young man smiled at him knowingly. “I may be young, pops, but I’m not stupid,” he said slowly and quietly. “I’m not falling for a sucker punch.” He stepped away from the car and squared off. “Step out of the vehicle.”
Bill shook his head. “I don’t think so, sonny. Your buddies may need your help.” Bill pointed again.
The soldier chanced a quick glance down the road and caught sight of the sprinters just as they hit the rear of the road block. He tried to scream to get their attention, but it was too late. The infected were upon them. Screams of soldiers mixed with quick bursts of automatic weapons fire and the howls of the infected.
Richard tapped Bill on the shoulder. “Maybe we ought to go the long way,” he breathed quietly.
“I think I can get through while they’re distracted.”
“No!” Jason and Richard both exclaimed, anxious to turn around and head in the other direction.
Bill threw the car into reverse and made a four point turn around on the narrow-paved road. The front tires spun slightly in the loose gravel by the side of the road as he accelerated away from the scene and he pushed the Buick to its limits. “I think they’re even more frightening in the daylight.”
“Yeah, because you can see them coming,” Richard agreed.
“They’re mad because it hurts,” Jason said quietly, staring out the window.
Bill slowed the Buick and cast a quick glance at the boy. “What’s that? How can you know all this stuff, kid?”
Jason shrugged as he continued to stare out the window at the passing trees. “I just do.”
Richard tapped Bill’s shoulder and pointed to a narrow road on their left. “It’s not in the best of shape, but if you take it slow, we should make it to the highway.”
“Without four-wheel drive?” he asked, his attention pulled from the small boy and his odd ability. “This thing doesn’t exactly have the ground clearance of your truck.”
“If you take it slow we should be okay. The county maintains the road,” Richard replied.
Bill slowed the car and took the turn, noting the broken pavement quickly turned into a dirt road, ruts and potholes a plenty. He slowed the vehicle more and navigated between the obstacles as best he could. “How far to the highway?” Bill bounced as the Buick scraped bottom on a particularly rough section.
“Couple of miles, if memory serves. It’s been a while since I’ve been down this way.” Richard glanced back behind them nervously.
“Relax. We left them munching on MREs,” Bill muttered, observing Richard’s nervous behavior.
“I can’t help feeling like they’re everywhere,” Richard replied.
“We’ll be fine once we hit the highway and put this place in our mirrors.” He navigated the Buick between two more potholes and accelerated slightly only to see Jason throw his hands up against the window just before something solid slammed into the side of the car. “What the—” Bill exclaimed, swerving.
A body bounced off the rear fender and rolled into the road, quickly gaining his feet under him and scrambling to catch the car. Bill saw the man’s face in the rear window and pushed the accelerator harder.
“Up ahead,” Richard groaned.
Bill looked up and slammed on the brakes, the infected man pursuing them slamming hard into the rear of the Buick’s tailgate. Bill quickly threw the car into reverse and began backing up, oblivious to the infected man behind him. Looking over his shoulder and peering out of the stained rear window, he felt the car rise and fall as it crunched over something large, four infected quickly gaining on them from the front.
“You better hurry,” Richard said as he peered over Bill’s shoulder and stared out of the windshield.
“I need a place to turn around! “
Bill finally found a place where the narrow road appeared wide enough to handle the SUV and he spun the wheel, slamming on the brakes, and throwing the gear selector into drive at the same time. The motor gunned as the front tires spun in the soft dirt, then caught and shot them in the direction they had just come from. The first of their pursuers had caught up to them and grasped at the rear window wiper, ripping it from the mount as he fell to the ground.
“This isn’t going to be smooth,” Bill shouted as he pressed the accelerator to the floor.
“Just get us out of here!”
The little Buick bounced and scraped along the dirt road, suspension bottoming out as it pitched from pothole to pothole, rut to rut, and slid in the soft dirt of the barely maintained road. “I thought the county kept this road up?” Bill asked as he fought the wheel.
“They keep fallen trees cleared off it mostly,” Richard shot back. “Hardly anybody uses it.”
“Of course not,” Bill muttered. “Cutbacks in the outback.”
As the Buick neared the paved road, Bill slowed down and the Buick bounced the passengers along the broken pavement. Bill edged the nose up to the road and checked for traffic. He quickly pulled the car onto the paved road and pressed the pedal to the floor; infected soldiers and campers sprinted up the road after them.
Bill looked at Richard in the mirror, his eyes full of one all-important question. “Tell me there’s another way off this mountain.”
Colonel Vickers had headed out before daybreak in a light chopper for an
