Allison frantically snatched the backpack man’s knife from her pack and wiped it across her jeans, removing any visible dirt. She pulled her first aid kit from beneath the seat and dumped the supplies on the floorboard. She grabbed some alcohol wipes and disinfected the blade. Then Allison pushed the blade against her skin near the bump. She bit her lip to keep herself still against the bright pain as the blade sliced through her skin. Blood ran down her neck, collecting along the collar of her shirt. She started to slide the blade along the edge of the object, but stopped. If this is what I think it is, what if removing it alerts them? Would they just rush me now and take me? Or kill me? What if this isn’t the tracker? I need to know for sure before I perform surgery on myself. Allison slipped the knife into the bag with the skeleton and then bandaged her wound.
She took a small shovel from the toolbox in the bed of the truck and carried it with the child’s skeleton and the bat into the park. Brightly colored playground equipment spotted the landscape. A jungle gym with monkey bars and two slides, one twisty, one straight. Swings for all ages, some higher than others. The chains had been flipped over the above bar multiple times, maybe by some daredevil kid who wanted to fly. Another jungle gym with a red tire swing hanging from it, shaded by the climbing wall nearby. A merry-go-round, Allison’s favorite, painted the colors of the rainbow and placed in the shade of large trees. The grass was deep green, unkempt, but not annoyingly tall.
Allison scoured the park for the largest tree and made her way over to it. The ground beneath the tree was flat with few roots obnoxiously marring the surface. Birds nested in the branches overhead and sang to her as she worked. To her amazement, it did not take long to dig down about three feet. She dabbed sweat from her brow using her shirt and noted she wasn’t even winded. She removed the knife from the bag and put it on the ground. She gently placed the skeleton, still in the bag, and the bat into the hole.
She bowed her head to pray and realized she couldn’t remember even one prayer. She struggled with what to say before finally settling on a time-honored phrase.
“May they rest in peace,” Allison whispered.
She covered the hole back with the dirt and patted it down the best she could with her small shovel. She lifted the knife from the ground and walked over to the tall tree. Initials and hearts adorned its trunk. She ran her hand across the cuts in the wood, tracing the hearts with her fingertips. Near the base of the tree she found a carving that appeared fresher. A name carved deep into the truck surrounded by a large heart. Eudora. Eudora was loved deeply by someone. Love was still fighting on despite the horror that was drowning the world. Allison found a bare area of bark and engraved “J Coons” in the tree above the fresh mound of dirt. She sliced deep into the tree so whoever found it next would know someone had profoundly loved J. She couldn’t save them, she couldn’t save the backpack man, but maybe she could still save herself.
Chapter Fourteen Allison
Allison took the truck out of town, driving further into the safe zone. She needed to get eyes on who was following her and didn’t want to worry about Infected sneaking up on her. She wanted to get closer to other people, just in case the men in the black truck were planning on moving in on her again.
Allison drove for hours, only stopping briefly to eat, with no sign of being followed. They must be hanging pretty far back. She ran her hand across the bump behind her ear as anxiety wrapped itself around her stomach and traveled up to her throat, threatening to send her into a panic. They let me dangle so they can swoop in whenever they want. She pulled some food from her pack and focused her thoughts on the journey ahead as she ate. Her stomach churned as bits of dried fruit and deer jerky hit her stomach, irritating it further. She consulted her journal, maps, and notes from Dave. A town only a half a day’s drive from her location should be populated. If she was willing to brave Collector checkpoints, she could be there in under two hours. However, considering they had already attacked her in the middle of the night, Allison thought it best to avoid them. Back roads were her best option.
The sun started settling into the horizon for the night, casting its orange glow over the trees, sending eerie shadows onto the roadway. No way I can make it there tonight. Allison searched each road sign she passed until she found one indicating a campground was ahead. She followed the signs to a secluded campsite tucked in the woods off a back road. A blink-and-you-miss-it kind of place.
There was a small log cabin at the entrance with a wood sign hanging above the door that read “Office.” Allison glanced in the window and saw that it had been rummaged through probably more than once. Anything useful was long gone. She found a brochure, hard and faded from exposure, in a small bucket hanging next to the door. She opened it and saw a color map spread across the inner pages. She evaluated the map and picked a camping spot near the
