Using his military skills, Albert shot off three rounds. Each of them hit the men in the legs. They collapsed to the ground and the trio on the roof opened fire. Their machine gun’s rippled through the night sky. Kyle ran as fast as he could, zigzagging all the way to the next gate. Albert was close behind. The lock on the gate was new, one that Albert had never seen before.
More bullets bounced off the pavement below them.
“What are you waiting for? Open it!” Kyle screamed.
“I don’t have a key!” Albert shot the lock but the round bounced off, not making a dent.
Kyle tossed the robot backpack over the fence first, then the Winchester. He holstered the Glock on his belt and began climbing. Albert tried to heave the black bag over the ten foot high chain linked fence but it didn’t go over. The bag came tumbling down and landed a foot away from him. He tried again, with no luck.
A bullet ricocheted off the ground and struck Albert in the right shoulder. “Ahhh!” he yelled as the force pressed him against the fence. “Fuck it.” He abandoned the bag and began to climb. Kyle had already made it to the ground on the opposite side. The wound on Albert’s shoulder wasn’t letting him climb as fast as he wanted. He was going to need help over. Kyle jumped back on the fence and climbed up to help Albert over to his side. As both men reached the top, a bullet, shot from the gun of Albert’s former military team, entered the side of Albert’s head, ejecting brain and blood out of the exit wound. Kyle was caught in a spray of blood. He saw the life instantly leave Albert’s body as he fell limp and dropped ten feet to the ground below.
Bullets continued to fly as Kyle let go of the fence. He hit the ground and fell to his knees. He grabbed his supplies and ran to the other side of the parking lot, where his new truck awaited. Jumping into the truck, Kyle threw everything into the passenger seat and used the screwdriver Albert had given him to start the engine.
The truck roared.
He drove out of the parking lot. He came to a closed fence but did not stop. The truck reached sixty miles an hour without a sweat. It made impact, with the gate breaking it open. A sign that read “EXIT” with an arrow pointing right was directly in front of him. He followed the sign and was led to the main highway.
The roads were filled with the Existing Dead. There was one for every ten cubic feet. Kyle concentrated. Any distraction would be fatal. Jasmine was the only thing on his mind.
He drove as carefully as possible, not letting any of the dead in front of him hold him back. If they were in the way, he would run them over. Some tried to grab the truck, but there was nothing for them to hold on to. They fell to the side as he drove by.
Kyle didn’t know the area well, but what he did know was that Interstate 15 was nearby. Another mile up the road and Kyle saw the sign indicating that the Interstate 15 onramp was just ahead. He pressed the accelerator and made a hard right onto the highway.
He was surprised by the lack of cars abandoned on the 15. There were big enough gaps for him to drive carefully at a steady pace. He looked down at his gas gauge and smiled. It was full. “Thanks, Albert,” he breathed.
Poway was usually five hours away from where he was. By driving on the shoulder to avoid any cars blocking his way, would surely double the time. He didn’t want to stop. He would make it to Poway. He would make it to Jasmine. He would make it.
Chapter Thirty-One
Kyle drove through the night. He was surprised that once he made it onto the highway, there were no Existing Dead anywhere in sight. Maybe they didn’t bother with the highways because cover was too far away.
Sunlight began to break through the horizon as he glanced at the gas meter through red and tired eyes. It was almost on empty. The 78 freeway onramp was directly in front of him. He knew that he still had another twenty or so miles to go. He hoped that the reserve tank would get him through.
“You’re almost there, huh?” Mary said.
Kyle looked to his right, and sitting there was Mary. Between them was Eddie. They both had their seatbelts buckled. They stared at him. He laughed for a split second.
“Yeah, finally.”
A figure in his rearview mirror caught his attention. It was Morgan, trying to look into the truck. She moved and Kyle saw the rest of the ghosts that had been haunting him gazed blankly at Kyle.
“What do you want?” he asked Mary coldly.
“Oh, nothing. Are you ready to find her dead?”
“Shut up.”
Mary smiled. “I’m just being realistic; after all, it took you how long to get here?”
“Shut up,” Kyle said.
“Okay, okay. I just hope your legs aren’t asleep.”
“What are you talking about?” Kyle asked. He turned to look at the ghost of Mary, but she was gone.
The truck began to splutter as he took the Scripps Poway Parkway exit. He looked at the gas gauge. It was on empty. The truck sputtered again and then rolled to a stop. He was so close; only two miles away.
There were no moving bodies anywhere. I thought California was the most infected area? Kyle mused, relieved that the ghosts had finally gone.
He opened the door and stepped outside. The warm Cali breeze washed over him as he took in his surroundings. Nothing had changed in the years he’d been gone. “I’m almost there, Jasmine.”
Taking a few steps to get used to his legs again, he stared in the direction he needed to walk. The road was completely blocked by cars. Some had overturned, while others were just charred frames. Even if the truck hadn’t run out of gas, he would have had to abandon it anyway. Kyle reached into the truck and grabbed the robot backpack, as well as his Winchester. He looked at the gun and shook his head. It was going to take a lot of cleaning before he could make it look new again.
Jasmine, like Kyle, loved guns. They used to frequent the local shooting range at least twice a week. He was confident that she would have everything he needed to make his Winchester shine.
Kyle placed the shotgun in the bed of the truck and began looking through the robot backpack. He found empty magazines and only four additional rounds, which made a total of eight. He loaded the extra rounds into the Glock, which was still holstered in his belt. He looked at the sun and prayed that the Existing Dead were the same here as they were back home. The sunlight should provide hours of security as its rays covered the city.
He took the last bottle of water in his bag and chugged it. He tossed the empty bottle into the truck’s bed and grabbed his things. He was ready.
Only two miles, he thought.
As he walked through the abandoned street he began reflecting on how his life had ended up the way it had. Why was he always doing things that he did not want to do? He didn’t want to marry Mary. It felt more like a shotgun wedding than anything else. He loved Jasmine; he wanted to be with Jasmine. But for some reason, Kyle always made the wrong decision. The one that would cause him pain and sorrow. And Mary had caused plenty of both.
Halfway to Jasmine’s house, Kyle passed a small bookstore. The same bookstore where he and Jasmine had spent many hours looking at books and drinking coffee. He had never been much of one for coffee, but just thinking about that mocha-colored gold made Kyle’s tired eyes close a little. He reopened them once he realized that he had been sleepwalking for a few steps.
He thought about breaking in and brewing himself a cup.
“No,” he said just to hear his voice. “No more distractions.”
He continued walking, feeling his legs become weaker and weaker with every step. Just up ahead was the ampm gas station where he had always bought gas after spending a wonderful day with Jasmine. “They have the lowest prices in town,” he said, remembering what Jasmine always told him about the place.