Henry waited a few moments, then slowly peered over the steering wheel. He saw the lone biker as he sifted through things in the gas station. He went through the repair shop and lifted a couple of gas cans, shook them, then tossed them aside.
“I think he’s looking for fuel,” Henry whispered.
Wally’s eyes widened. “You don’t think he’d try to siphon ours, do you?”
Henry gave him a duh stare. “This is diesel. It won’t work in his Harley.”
Wally groaned and tried to melt his large form farther into the floorboards of truck. “I hope he knows this is a diesel.”
Henry peered over the steering wheel again and watched as the man walked past the truck. A moment later he heard the sounds of somebody trying the lever on the fuel pump. He smiled to himself. Even if there was gas, you’d need electricity to run the pump. This biker must be stupid.
He heard the side tank of the truck’s fuel tank being messed with and he could imagine the biker unscrewing the cap and sniffing the fuel. ‘Nope, not it.’ Then moving on.
Henry jumped as a knock on the window above him snapped him from his thoughts and Wally gave a sharp shriek.
“Dude. You got any gas?”
Henry leaned up slowly and gave him a frightened smile. He shook his head rapidly. “Nope. Sorry. Only diesel.”
The wild-looking biker was unshaven and his hair looked like he’d been through a wind tunnel. The man pulled his sunglasses down and nodded to Wally. “Why don’t you two step out.”
“No thanks. We’re good,” Henry replied and gave him a quick wave. He saw the huge barrel of the 10mm pistol flash in the window and nearly wet himself. “Oh! Sorry…I didn’t hear you say please.”
The biker smiled and leaned closer to the window. “Please…step down from there.”
Henry swallowed hard and nodded, his hand reaching for the door latch.
Chapter 16
“You two can catch up in the truck.” Hollis lowered his face to peer over his sunglasses. “You do intend to go along, don’t you?”
Buck shrugged. “Nothing better to do.” He followed Hatcher, who climbed into the rear of the Humvee. Buck climbed in the other side and the group was moving again, slowly inching their way up the mountain.
“How did you survive out here, kis?” Hatcher was turned and facing him as they travelled.
Buck shook his head slowly. “The current carried me quite a ways down the mountain, but I found myself on the bank when the volcano blew the top off the mountain. The sky was dark for days and lucky for me, most of the big chunks were closer to the blast.”
“It was a bomb, not the volcano,” Hatcher corrected.
Buck gave him a wide-eyed stare. “That must have been one hell of a bomb.” The military men in the truck added nothing so he continued. “Anyway, I learned quickly how to blend in. I covered myself with mud and leaves, used the trees for cover. I made my way back to the RV but…it was pretty much useless.” He shuddered involuntarily at the reminder of finding his sister dead in the back. “I couldn’t find my dad. Somebody shot my sister. I knew I was alone and the exits were blocked by some pretty big rocks.”
“Why in the hell did you stay here?” Hatcher asked, still trying to wrap his mind around the teenager surviving these long weeks alone.
“I kept thinking that somebody would have to come back. I mean, eventually.” He shrugged and gave Hatcher a forlorn smile. “I really thought somebody would have to collect the dead. That they’d come here to figure out what the hell happened.”
“So you’ve been waiting this whole time?”
“Surviving.” Buck’s voice was barely a whisper. “I learned to trap small animals. I’ve watched the zombies break into small groups. They really have a pack mentality. Not unlike the wolves.”
Hollis turned around in the front seat to eye him. “So, there’s a pack leader?”
Buck nodded. “Oh, yeah. And every once in a while, two packs will butt heads and the alphas will go at it. Whoever wins gets the other guy’s pack.”
“And the other alpha?” Hollis asked.
“They usually eat whatever is left of him.” Buck deadpanned.
“They’re cannibals?” Hatcher asked.
Buck nodded. “They are now. Not at first. But then they hunted this area almost completely out of wildlife.”
Hatcher watched him and noted how thin the boy was. His arms look like leather wrapped over sinew and muscle. He reached into his satchel and pulled out the remains of the MRE and handed it to Buck.
“Thanks.” Buck ripped into the plastic packages and inhaled the food, barely chewing before swallowing.
“Slow down, buddy. This isn’t a race.” Hatcher gave him a crooked smile.
“Sorry.” Buck wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m so used to just swallowing it and praying it stays down. You have to be on guard all of the time out there.”
“Where have you been staying, kid?” Hollis asked.
“Here and there. Wherever seemed safe at the time.” His eyes became distant as he recalled the first nights alone. “I tried staying in the RV. The smell was horrendous, even after I buried Keri.” He swallowed hard and seemed to snap back to the present. “I found a couple of different rock outcrops that I could fit under. I used what little leaves I could scrounge to insulate me from the ground and used them to cover with so I wouldn’t be seen.” He shrugged. “A lot of times I cinched myself as high into a tree as I could and slept there. Usually during the day, though. Nights are when they’re most active.”
Hatcher opened his mouth to ask another question when Buck leaned forward and raised his voice. “So why are you guys here?” His gaze bounced from Hollis to Hatcher then back again.
Hatcher answered, “They’re working on a cure. The virus that spread out has mutated and they need the original strain.”
Buck gave him a confused stare. “Cure?” He thought
