He reached out, and with some reluctance, Michael handed him the paper. Turning back around, Kyle looked down at the NAV, inputting the coordinates. I glanced at it as a small circle spun in the middle of the screen, while the directions were calculated.
I could hear Michael closing the metal case shut, and rearranging the number dials to lock it up tight. “Route: 87 miles” popped up on the screen, along with a digital arrow pointing us forward on the road we were traveling on.
“Eighty seven miles,” Kyle said. “We’ll know soon enough if this place is real or not.”
“It’s real. We just need to get there,” Michael replied sternly.
Chapter 17
That man is dead to me…
The further in to Virginia we went, the more we saw abandoned military vehicles. Some had crashed and others were merely left in the middle of the road, not unlike the many civilian vehicles we had come across.
All simple reminders that we had lost this war against the undead before it even started. Mankind had no chance. Whoever or whatever cooked up this thing, was either an evil genius or a fucking moron. Either way, it was looking as if it was going to be the end of us.
Just as we passed a large, green army supply truck, Kyle asked me to stop. He told me that he had an idea. Making sure that there were not any zombies too close by, I hit the brakes. He had the door open, and was climbing out before we came to a complete stop.
Michael and I watched as he darted to the truck, flipped open a green tarp door at the rear of the vehicle and jumped in. We lost our visual on him for a moment, but the shocks of the truck rocked back and forth, as he moved around.
A minute later, he hopped out with a belt around his shoulder and two large boxes under his arms. He returned to the Hummer with his loot, and climbed back in, the belt still over his shoulder.
He looked at me with a big smile.
“Ammo,” he exclaimed, as he held up the belt. It contained multiple red shotgun shells. He had grabbed bullets for the two handguns as well. We now had more than we knew what to do with.
As we made our way further down the road, we noticed that more and more of the zombies were wearing various kinds of military camouflage. It became clear that there was a battle somewhere nearby that we probably didn’t win.
One of the military Zs was stumbling alongside the road as we drove by. We watched as he walked up to an American flag, which was plastered on some redneck’s pickup truck, raised his half gnawed off hand up to his forehead and gave it a formal salute.
A somber feeling entered the back of my mind. The salute was a simple reminder that these things were human once. I glanced over at Kyle expecting him to show some sort of emotion by the gesture. I was surprised to see him role his eyes, shifting his gaze out to the other window. In the end, I guess as far as he was concerned, they were the enemy. No more, no less.
Hell, how could we go on unless we believed that? Far be it from us even to consider the possibility that there was some sort of cure. That there was some sort of way that they could come back. We had to push that thought out of our heads. I don’t think we would have made it this far if we let that sneak into out subconscious. We needed to believe that they were no longer human. No longer one of us.
From time to time, one of the Zs would be fast enough to run up to the Hummer, but luckily; we were too high for them to do any damage. Most of the time, we just felt a thump thump as we ran over it with one of the oversized tires. It was a time like this that reassured us that we’d made the right choice in keeping the Hummer, despite its lack of camouflage.
As long as we kept moving, we seemed to be okay.
There were sandbags laid out, and the road was black with various bloody and rotting body parts. Arms, legs, torsos… none of it reanimated because the pieces were not attached to a head. Even through the rancid smell of decaying flesh, there was a hint of the metallic weaponry and acrid remnants of gunpowder left lingering in the air.
The insects had found the body parts, and maggots covered the larger chunks of meat lying lifeless on the ground. I glanced up to the sky, expecting to see buzzards or some other sort of winged predator picking away at the remains, but was surprised to see none. Even the birds seemed smart enough to stay away from this shit.
The Zs were thicker here, and beginning to convene around the Hummer in greater numbers. If we got stuck on anything, we’d have been in a world of trouble. I glanced at a military grade Hummer off to my right, feeling my stomach churn rather abruptly, my blood went cold. I could see that it had flipped on its side. The glass was torn through, and blood covered the seats on the inside of it.
That could have been us, I thought. If the zombies could demolish a military grade vehicle, think of what it could do to our civilian grade. My hands began to shake involuntarily, causing me to squeeze the steering wheel with an iron grip. I decided that we needed to get the hell out of there, and accelerated a bit, knocking through the swarm of Zs in our way. It was a bumpy drive, despite good shocks, as the tires moved up and down popping open skulls and squishing through the dead in our path. We finally pushed through the other side of the swarm.
I had to drive on the side of the road. It looked like the military had dropped everything it had on it. From mortars to missiles, there were holes that would have been deep enough to be a death trap for the Hummer if we accidentally drove into one. It would have ripped apart the undercarriage just as easily as those zombies ripped apart living flesh.
As we passed a few of them, I shifted my body up, and could see creatures stuck in the holes, unable to crawl out. One of them had clearly scratched away the flesh from his hands by repeatedly trying to pull itself out. Stubbs of bone protruded from what was left of the ragged green shirtsleeves.
Most of the trees and grass in the area were either burnt to a pile of ash or blackened from fire and smoke. Along with the bombs, the military must have tried flamethrowers on these things as well.
Everything around us was still hot. There was smoke burning up from the ash, and I wondered if the Hummers tires were capable of passing through the extreme temperatures. I shuddered at the thought of finding out that they couldn’t.
We weren’t sure if the military’s efforts worked on killing the undead, but it sure helped to clear the side of the road; making it easier for me to get the Hummer by. Even with super-sized seats and extra cushion, my ass was starting to hurt from all the bouncing up and down. I sighed with relief as we finally made it past the war zone.
And just like that, we were once again on the road, surrounded with green trees and grass. I released a deep breath that was caught in my lungs, and felt my hands unclench the steering wheel. I could hear Michael, from behind me, let out a sigh of relief as well.
The further south we headed, the less densely populated the landscape became. Gone were skyscrapers and large buildings, now replaced by rolling mountains covered with trees, fields, and suburban neighborhoods.
The real mind-fuck about the “Burbs” was the kids. I didn’t remember seeing any children back in the city or even in Jersey. Now, the Zs seemed to have more teenagers and toddlers joining their ranks.
To this day, it might be the most horrifying thing of this shit-storm we’re calling a world now. It’s simply awful to see the innocence of a child replaced by the raw violence and primal desire for flesh. I’m happy to say that I’d been able to avoid coming across one face to face; where I’d have to make the decision between myself or them.