Dead Highways (Book 2): Passage by Richard Brown

but my Spidey senses were tingling, telling me there was something more going on, something bigger, some greater plan at work.
    Did I mention I was paranoid?
    All those years spent feeding my imagination and all I had to show for it was a never-ending supply of massive brain dumps.
    Halfway down, as the ramp veered sharply to the right, we came upon a bushy area of overgrown trees.
    Robinson stopped suddenly. “Do you hear that?”
    “Yeah. What is it?”
    We stood very still and listened intently. The air was calm, no wind, making the sound come through loud and clear. What the sound was, however, was a mystery to me, but there was no doubt it was coming from the direction of I-4.
    “This way,” Robinson said, leading us off the concrete path and alongside the thick brush. It was a shortcut to the interstate, and as we drew closer, I began to see cars take shape out of the darkness. Parked cars. I also saw human shapes—far too many to count—producing the sound we heard, shambling between the abandoned vehicles, heading…
    Northeast?
    Robinson stopped suddenly again. No doubt, he saw the infected too. Then he kneeled next to the bushes, convincing me to do the same.
    “Ted,” Robinson spoke softly into the radio receiver. “You there?”
    A few seconds later, Ted responded. “You okay?”
    “Yeah, we’re fine,” Robinson answered back. “We made it to the interstate … or pretty close to it.”
    “What do you see?”
    “Well … lots of cars. It looks like they were a little late shutting down I-4. It’s possible we could blaze a path down the median, but it won’t be easy. The interstate is crawling with infected.”
    I didn’t see anyone actually crawling—it did look like there were many either sleeping or dead—but I liked Robinson’s choice of words nonetheless.
    “It’s your call,” Ted said.
    Robinson lowered the radio and appeared to be weighing his options. Finally, he raised the receiver and said, “I think I’m gonna get a closer look.”
    Great! Just what I wanted to hear.
    “Be careful,” Ted said.
    “Will do. Y’all okay for now?”
    “Yep. All clear here.”
    “Copy.” Robinson clipped the radio back on to his belt and looked back at me. “You can stay back if you want.”
    Great! Just what I wanted to hear.
    “I’ll try not to shoot you in the back,” I said.
    “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. Thanks.”
    Robinson drew his sidearm and waddled, bent over, closer to the interstate. I continued my usual check of the surroundings, left, right, left, back. I kept Sally lowered on the off chance that a small animal might scamper out of the overgrowth and scare the bejesus out of me, causing a premature evacuation. I told Robinson I would try not to shoot him in the back, and I was a man of my word.
    He stopped waddling about thirty yards in front of me, at the edge of the trees. I was surprised he chanced getting that close, even if none of the infected seemed to take notice of him. He sat there for a good minute staring up and down the interstate, and then turned around and waddled back.
    “So…”
    “There’s a lot of them,” Robinson said. “Hundreds. Maybe thousands.”
    “Thousands? Holy fuck,” I whispered. “Pardon my French.”
    “There’s no way we’re getting on the interstate. It’s way too dangerous.”
    “We’ll have to find another way.”
    Robinson glanced back out at the interstate. “Weird thing was … I’d say at least half of them were lying on the ground. Dead, I guess. I don’t understand that.”
    “Could be sleeping.”
    “Really? Sleeping?”
    “You haven’t seen it before?”
    “No, have you?”
    “Yeah, last night, after we got separated in the woods. Some of the infected on the highway were asleep. I know because I woke one on accident. I had thought he was dead at first too.”
    “I guess it makes sense, right. Even if their minds are gone, they’re still human. They have to rest. They can’t walk around