Simon nodded, his eyes fading into a thousand yard stare. “I sincerely hope so.” He looked up again and met her gaze with a hard stare. “For his sake.”
Buck drove the pickup and trailer through the congested streets of Albuquerque with a large load of solar panels strapped to the back. He checked his side mirrors again as the trailer bounced across a particularly rough set of old railroad tracks. “I hope those solar panels are tougher than they look.”
Roger humphed as he craned his neck and checked the load behind them. “They’ll be fine. Just don’t be jumping any more tracks.”
“I didn’t jump them, I just…” He trailed off when he saw the grin pasted on Roger’s face. He turned back to the road then slammed on the brakes, sending them both forward and into the dash.
“What the hell, Buck?!”
Buck leaned back in the seat and pointed through the windshield. “A Throwback.” His head whipped side to side looking for an avenue of escape.
“Turn right. I know this road.” Roger slapped at the dash as Buck twisted the steering wheel and pressed the accelerator to the floor.
“How are they so freakin’ fast?” Buck’s mouth went dry as he navigated a quick twist in the road then sped up after it straightened.
“I dunno.” Roger twisted in the seat and watched as the man slowly shrank from view, his speed never slowing. “Damn…they are tenacious.”
“If that means that they don’t give up, I agree.”
“It does.” Roger twisted back in his seat and closed his eyes. “You scared me worse than the infected dude.”
“Sorry.” Buck swallowed hard and fought the urge to drive faster. “They scare me a lot worse than the Zulus ever did.” He shot Roger a quick glance and shook his head. “They’ll attack anything. Even another Throwback.”
“Throwback?”
Buck shrugged. “It seemed to fit. They remind me of a story I read in high school.”
Roger adjusted himself in the seat and glanced to the side mirror. “I think he’s still following.” He looked up and pointed through the windshield. “Blow this stop sign and at the next one, turn left. It will take you a couple of miles north, but we can approach the highway from the other side.”
“I hope Stanton appreciates us putting our lives on the line for these stupid things.”
Roger scoffed again. “In his mind, the cure took care of all the Zulus.” He shook his head as he glanced to the side mirror again. “Apparently these things are too few and far between to concern him.”
Buck shot him an evil grin. “Then I think the next time he wants us to make a run, he should drive.”
Roger laughed and pointed through the windshield. “Dream on, Alice.”
The infected man had no recollection of who he was, but when he saw the vehicle on the road, he knew that there was fresh meat inside it. Tender, blood-soaked meat just waiting for him to sink his teeth into. He screamed and broke into a dead run.
When the vehicle screeched to a stop, he felt hope well in his chest. As the vehicle quickly turned and started down a side street, he knew that he’d have to pick up the pace. He willed himself to run faster and cut across a dried up mound of grass to close the distance.
The vehicle had at least two blood-filled meat sacks inside, and he forced himself to push harder. He could see the trailer grow larger in his vision, and for the briefest of moments, thought that he was about to catch his prey. Then the damned thing began to pull away.
He screamed again, his lungs burning as he forced his body to react as quickly as it could. He ran faster than he thought he was capable, but the luscious meat sacks got away.
His desire for fresh meat was stronger than his common sense, and he continued to run. He stared at the back of the trailer until it faded from view. He continued to run until his broken mind forgot what he was chasing.
Was he running to catch something or running from something? He slowed and glanced over his shoulder to ensure nothing was chasing him.
He heard his feet slap on the pavement as he slowed then turned back the way he had come. He continued to breathe hard as his burning lungs sucked more and more air into them.
He had just crested a short hill when his eyes relayed a message to his brain that he wasn’t prepared for.
In the middle of the road stood a lone figure, dressed entirely in black. Whoever it was stared at the ground in front of him. He felt that carnal desire swell inside again and sprinted desperately towards his prey.
As he approached the figure, it slowly looked up and locked eyes with him. The bearded, white haired man held a hand up and simply said, “Stop.”
The infected man slowed his approach and stared at the figure quickly drawing closer.
“I said, STOP!”
He didn’t know why, but he felt compelled to comply. He stood in front of the man, his chest heaving as his lungs begged for more air than he could give.
The man stared at him until a slow smile began to form. “You’re much healthier than my other disciples.” He stepped closer and the hunter realized that he had truly become the prey. “You must have been touched by God after the great cleansing.”
The black clad man walked a slow circle around him and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself to turn and face him. He watched as the man stepped in front of his face and studied him. “You may kneel now, my son.”
He watched in horror as the old man reached out and touched his shoulder. It was as if he had been struck by lightning. He fell to his hands and knees and an electric fire shot through every fiber of his being. He found himself bowing before the
