walked the whole way from Cary the suburb we lived in to outside of Raleigh. It definitely had made it easier to stay out of sight. But now that she’s gone, I’m even more anxious to get to my sister. We can cover two to three times the distance in the truck. “We decided to stick it out with the truck as long as it lasts.”
“No complaints here,” Chloe says.
We find the cabin and the truck the way we left it, including the way the rock hiding the key hangs slightly askew. As outdated and rustic as the cabin has become, I do have a familial connection to it and leaving it feels a little bittersweet. Plus it feels stupid to leave somewhere safe. /Maybe Jane and I could come back here one day. Because of this, I decide not to make any move to go back inside and alert Cole and Chloe to my connection to the place. It’s no surprise when Wyatt tosses his bag in the back of the truck and opens the door, without even a glance at the cabin. He’s ready to move on.
The twins climb in the back, feet loud on the metal truck bed. I open and close the creaky door, inhaling the familiar scent of the cab. I shove my bag between my feet. Wyatt fishes the key out from under the seat and cranks the engine. It rumbles to life, interrupting the ever present silence.
When we finally reach the main road I whisper, “Do you think it’s a mistake bringing them along?”
“You’re the one that pushed this.”
“Don’t pretend like you’re not into that guy’s hunting skills,” I tell Wyatt. “Look, I know I pushed it, but now I’m second guessing myself. I didn’t realize when we said hello that they would end up in the back of the truck. It’s not like we know anything about them.”
He chuckles softly. “It’s not like we know one another.”
“No, I guess not.”
Wyatt palms the large steering wheel, arms tense. “If you want to ditch them we can, but you saved my ass the other day—twice with the doctoring on the boat. It doesn’t hurt to have a little back up—we both saw what they did with those bows. They’re not weak, but they also don’t seem too crazy. If they are we’ll deal with it at the time.”
I hope the time doesn’t come when we aren’t expecting it.
“Okay, we’re human. We need humans,” I say more to myself than to him. “Stick to our rules and we’ll be okay.”
“Rules?”
“Mother f-er, Wyatt. Did you forget already?” I notice the quirk of his eyebrow and quiver on his lip. Were in the middle of the zombie apocalypse and this guy is making jokes. Asshole. I punch him in his rock hard arm and wince.
“Never separate,” he says, eyes steady with mine. “One day I think you’ll regret making that rule.”
I turn, red faced and look out the window. He’s probably right.
***
As expected the short trip takes longer than I’d have liked. We’re forced to make time to stop for gas, siphoning it from a couple of cars stranded in the middle of a parking lot. The shops in this abandoned plaza were long gone before the epidemic, hit hard by small town economics. No reason to scavenge or look around. Chloe and I keep watch while the guys take turns figuring out how to get the gas out of one car and into the rusted metal can we found at the cabin.
“Where did Cole get that tubing?” I ask wiping sweat off my forehead. It’s hot and the parking lot feels like I’m standing in the middle of an oven. Chloe has damp spots soaking through her shirt. We’re looking for Eaters, military or just anything that moves.
“Lucky for you my brother has a survivalist streak. He has spent way too many hours watching those adventure shows on TV and YouTube videos on how to make a purse out of a squirrel. He’s got all kinds of things in his backpack that he has plans to MacGyver into something useful.”
“I guess that hobby has come in handy,” I say. “Better than spending all your free time on the internet playing war games. Or at least that’s what my m…” I choke and
“No complaints here,” Chloe says.
We find the cabin and the truck the way we left it, including the way the rock hiding the key hangs slightly askew. As outdated and rustic as the cabin has become, I do have a familial connection to it and leaving it feels a little bittersweet. Plus it feels stupid to leave somewhere safe. /Maybe Jane and I could come back here one day. Because of this, I decide not to make any move to go back inside and alert Cole and Chloe to my connection to the place. It’s no surprise when Wyatt tosses his bag in the back of the truck and opens the door, without even a glance at the cabin. He’s ready to move on.
The twins climb in the back, feet loud on the metal truck bed. I open and close the creaky door, inhaling the familiar scent of the cab. I shove my bag between my feet. Wyatt fishes the key out from under the seat and cranks the engine. It rumbles to life, interrupting the ever present silence.
When we finally reach the main road I whisper, “Do you think it’s a mistake bringing them along?”
“You’re the one that pushed this.”
“Don’t pretend like you’re not into that guy’s hunting skills,” I tell Wyatt. “Look, I know I pushed it, but now I’m second guessing myself. I didn’t realize when we said hello that they would end up in the back of the truck. It’s not like we know anything about them.”
He chuckles softly. “It’s not like we know one another.”
“No, I guess not.”
Wyatt palms the large steering wheel, arms tense. “If you want to ditch them we can, but you saved my ass the other day—twice with the doctoring on the boat. It doesn’t hurt to have a little back up—we both saw what they did with those bows. They’re not weak, but they also don’t seem too crazy. If they are we’ll deal with it at the time.”
I hope the time doesn’t come when we aren’t expecting it.
“Okay, we’re human. We need humans,” I say more to myself than to him. “Stick to our rules and we’ll be okay.”
“Rules?”
“Mother f-er, Wyatt. Did you forget already?” I notice the quirk of his eyebrow and quiver on his lip. Were in the middle of the zombie apocalypse and this guy is making jokes. Asshole. I punch him in his rock hard arm and wince.
“Never separate,” he says, eyes steady with mine. “One day I think you’ll regret making that rule.”
I turn, red faced and look out the window. He’s probably right.
***
As expected the short trip takes longer than I’d have liked. We’re forced to make time to stop for gas, siphoning it from a couple of cars stranded in the middle of a parking lot. The shops in this abandoned plaza were long gone before the epidemic, hit hard by small town economics. No reason to scavenge or look around. Chloe and I keep watch while the guys take turns figuring out how to get the gas out of one car and into the rusted metal can we found at the cabin.
“Where did Cole get that tubing?” I ask wiping sweat off my forehead. It’s hot and the parking lot feels like I’m standing in the middle of an oven. Chloe has damp spots soaking through her shirt. We’re looking for Eaters, military or just anything that moves.
“Lucky for you my brother has a survivalist streak. He has spent way too many hours watching those adventure shows on TV and YouTube videos on how to make a purse out of a squirrel. He’s got all kinds of things in his backpack that he has plans to MacGyver into something useful.”
“I guess that hobby has come in handy,” I say. “Better than spending all your free time on the internet playing war games. Or at least that’s what my m…” I choke and
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