“That’s where Zac went,” Ella whispered.
“Let’s not worry just yet. Traveling only at night will take some time. Besides, Zac’s a resourceful fella.” Dean hoped to alleviate the terror emanating from Scarlett’s eyes. “On the upside, if Last State thinks they exterminated the horde infestations, the Zhetto Market’s most likely open. Say, Justin, will these RFID chips get us into the market?”
Justin shrugged. “They usually only scan the vehicles. Since most Zhetts remove their CitChips. But”—he paused—“they might have upped their security.”
“Son, think you and I ought to go,” Dean rushed through before Ella could interrupt. “You know your way around.”
Dean caught Justin’s questioning glance at Ella as if silently asking permission to go on their field trip. A movement caught his attention. Hell’s bells! A lone dead-head staggered to the middle of the street. It sure had better be an isolated incident.
“You should go,” Ella finally consented after an uncomfortable silence.
Another one shambled into the road. Dean signaled the danger sign and then pointed outside. Ella smothered her gasp with her hand. He was dying to know if the two dead-heads had pinpointed their precise location despite the meticulous precautions they had taken.
Looks like it was time to zombie-proof the house with more than the furniture they had barricaded the downstairs doors and windows with. He closed the drapes, leaving a two-inch gap. With the blinds angled just right, he had a view of the front yard and the street.
Justin hovered next to him for a look-see. “Cool.” Justin gave the thumbs-up signal. “Not the Walmart Zs.”
Chances were, that particular horde was still trapped in the delicatessen. Until they thought to bust through the plate glass windows. Finally, the dead-heads ambled three houses down. “We’re in the clear. Just keep the volume down,” Dean cautioned, somehow feeling everyone’s relief.
“How ya’ll getting to the market?” Luther asked.
That was the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question rattling around his mind. “Suppose it’s too risky to take the HAZMAT van?” After all, they had stolen it.
“Can Last State ping its location with GPS tracking—like OnStar or LoJack?” Luther asked.
“Sure,” Justin said. “But, they have way more vans than Blue Suit Responders. I sorta doubt they’ve gotten around to reclaiming it.”
“I’ll take a bike ride after we eat. If the van’s there, I’ll take it as a sign from the cosmos.” Luther wiggled his eyebrows at Twila until she giggled. “I’ll look for those MREs while I’m at it.”
“How ’bout this?” Dean verbally thought out the plan. “If the van’s there, we take it to the bunkhouse. Then, we take off with Zac’s pickup.”
“Duh,” Justin spouted off. “The truck’s out of gas?”
“There’s bound to be a way to buy gas,” Dean insisted.
“Cits need ration cards for gas,” Justin reminded.
Scarlett finally laughed. “Shari used to horde her ration cards. She kept them in a slit in the driver’s side door panel.”
Dean played with his stubbly chin. “You don’t say.” The plan was shaping up.
“Ya know,” Justin said. “I’ve been scavenging mountain bikes for each of us. We can ride them to the Forbidden Zone’s border and take them in the van. In case we run out of gas or need to disappear suddenly. Uh, can you ride?” Justin’s voice went up an octave.
“I’m not over the hill yet.” Dean winked at Twila. “Although, it’s been a while. I’m sure I’ll manage.” He certainly didn’t relish the idea of being on foot with dead-head activity on the upswing.
“I’m thinkin’ we should leave for the bunkhouse tonight,” Dean decided. “That way we can hit the market first thing. And hang around for Zac as late as we can.”
After hashing out their limited options, he was satisfied they had made the best decision for their situation. Although Zac’s old jalopy might peter out at any given time. A sudden sinking feeling warned it wouldn’t be easy as all that. Trouble had a way of interfering with the best-laid plans.
“Barring any unforeseen circumstances, we should be back tomorrow by supper time.” Dean’s throat went dry. “ ’Course, I don’t want you all to get in a tizzy if it takes us an extra day.”
Ella reached for Justin’s hand.
“Easy-peasy,” a confident Justin retorted.
Nonetheless, Dean sensed the apprehension lingering in the room.
“Please, don’t buy pancakes. I never want to eat them again,” Twila burst.
Dean couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Twila, be grateful,” Scarlett gently reprimanded. “When you’re hungry enough, you’ll eat anything.”
“What about roadblocks?” Luther asked.
“We should be able to spot them long before they spot us,” Dean said with binoculars in hand. “Trust me, if we run into any trouble, we’ll abort our mission.”
“So, we’re leaving tonight?” Panic crept into Justin’s voice.
“If we want to eat,” Dean intoned. A strange sensation engulfed him as if witnessing the sands of time slipping through his fingers.
***
By late afternoon, Dean and Justin crouched under an office building’s archway several yards from the Forbidden Zone’s border wall and waited for the next drone fly-over. Luther had confirmed the van was still there and had explained how to connect the wires to hotwire it. Their plan was iffy at best.
“There she goes,” Dean uttered under his breath when the low-flying drone buzzed along the border wall and out of sight.
According to Luther, the narrow breach in the fence hadn’t been repaired. Still, he tossed a handful of leaves at the fence to make sure the juice was off. Nothing. Dean chalked it up to good luck or overworked employees. They snuck into the Y-zone with the mountain bikes.
“I’ll drive,” Justin said. “I can use my eidetic memory.”
Dean readjusted the Bushnells. “Have at it. I’ll scan for roadblocks.”
They drove through the industrial section before merging onto the highway. Low and behold, for a minute it was like the flu outbreak had never happened. Traffic flowed in both
