What seemed like a moment later, Dakota opened his eyes to find the bus still moving. His hopes dashed and his disappointment more than light, he pushed himself into a sitting position and looked out the window, sighing when he saw no identifiable signs of Arcburrow in the distance.
“We’re still going,” Steve said, drawing Dakota’s attention away from the window.
“How long was I asleep?”
“I dunno, an hour, maybe.”
“How fast have you been going?”
“Fifty, sixty. I don’t like the way the bus moves when I’m going too fast.”
“So we’ve still got at least a five-hour drive before we get there?”
“Pretty much.”
“Is Ian still asleep?”
“I’m guessing. I haven’t heard him move or say anything.”
Lucky bastard.
Dakota stood and prepared to make his way toward the back of the bus, where Ian sat somewhere between the fifth and eighth row. However, when he gripped the bar above Steve’s head to support himself, he stopped to look at his friend. “You haven’t slept at all,” he asked, “have you?”
“No.”
“We can stop.”
“We’re dead weight if we pull over to rest. I’d feel better and much more comfortable if we kept going. I can sleep when we get there.”
“You have any ideas about where we’re going?”
“Not really. I’ll probably just pull into a gas station and see if we can find a parking garage unless you have any better ideas.”
“Not really.” Dakota readjusted his hold on the support bar, then leaned forward and gripped Steve’s shoulder. “If you want me to drive, I can. Just teach me how to run the controls and I’ll do it.”
“Thanks, bud.”
“No need to thank me.”
Turning, Dakota continued down the row of seats until he found Ian dozing in his seat. Face twisted in a mix of discomfort and content, he mumbled something in his sleep, then slid further down into the seat. Dakota grimaced when he thought of the plastic ties digging into his skin.
We’ll have to let him go eventually.
But when? When would it be safe for them to untie Ian and allow him to walk freely among them? When would it be safe to look him in the eyes and not have to worry about what lay on the other side, about the thoughts he could possibly be having or the motives that might be hidden beneath the surface?
When, Dakota thought, would it be safe for them to sit side-by-side without having second thoughts?
Probably never, he thought, thinking back to the man’s horrible confession. We’ll probably never feel completely comfortable around him.
It seemed hard to believe that a man such as Ian could ever be swayed into doing something he didn’t want to do. He was tall, at least over six feet; broad-shouldered, with muscles broadening his frame and cording his thick arms; and tattoos covered his shoulders and branched out from underneath his shirt. His cold eyes often seemed angry, like sparkling ice in the coldest place on Earth, and the scars on his hands spoke of a life rife with violence and the tendencies it followed. Of anyone Dakota had ever seen or met, Ian seemed the least likely to ever allow anyone to control him.
“Shit happens,” he sighed.
Ian’s left eye cracked open. “You say somethin’?” he mumbled.
“Just talking to myself,” Dakota smiled.
Ian snorted and went back to sleep.
Not sure what else to do, Dakota made his way back to the front of the bus and reseated himself next to Steve. It only took one look out the window to summon a thought in his head. “Steve, are there any towns out this way?”“Not that I recall, why?”
“Because I just got a bad feeling for no reason at all.”
Chaos stormed their lives as dawn cracked the shell of the horizon.
“LOOK OUT!” Dakota screamed.
A group of infected tore out of a gas station parking lot and hurled themselves in front of the bus. Forced to impact with the flailing, once-human creatures, the bus lunged forward, then back, sending Dakota flying up the middle of the bus and Ian into the seat in front of him.
“FUCKING HELL!” Ian screamed. “SOMEONE GET THESE CUFFS OFF ME!”
“NO!” Steve roared. “Nothing’s coming off of him until I fucking say so!”
An infected slammed into the side of the bus, screaming as it first wrapped its hands around the barbed wire only to be tossed aside as the metal sliced its hold away. Another group—this one larger, but just as troublesome—stumbled into the road and reached for the bus. A few of their arms were instantly destroyed upon impact with the vehicle barreling down the road.
Struggling to regain his composure, Dakota sank his fingers into the leather seat hard enough to tear holes in it, then grabbed hold of Steve’s chair. He pulled himself up just in time to be pushed into the man’s side as he rounded a corner.
“STEVE!” he screamed.
The tail end of the bus skirted the corner, struggling to follow its front half.
Ian flew into the seat opposite him.
Dakota slammed his head into the dash and nearly blacked out.
At that moment, Dakota thought the bus would tip onto its side and they would all be crushed under the unbearable weight of fifteen-hundred tons of metal.
Somehow, some way—through an act of God or a stroke of luck—Steve managed to correct the vehicle.
“DAKOTA!” Steve screamed.
Stars flashed over Dakota’s vision and what felt like blood was running down his forehead. “We have to do something.”
“I’m working on it! I’m working on it!”
“We have to untie Ian.”
“Don’t do you dare, Dakota.”
“He’s completely helpless! He just flew into the side of the bus!”
“You let him go and I swear I’ll—”
Dakota didn’t let Steve finish. He turned and barreled down the center aisle, desperate to find the ex-con.
Where are you? he thought, panicking, eyes darting over the seats and into the tight spaces along the floor. Goddammit! I just saw you! Where the hell are you?
A trembling figure wedged into a seat came into view.
“Ian! Ian! Listen to me!” Dakota said, falling to Ian’s side. “Snap out of it!”
“I’M FUCKING SCARED OUT OF MY MIND!” Ian screamed, tears coursing down his face.
“I know! I know! Here, stand up. I’m untying you.”
“What?”
“I’m fucking untying you!” Dakota cried. “Get up!”
Dakota leaned forward, grabbed the man’s undershirt, and pulled him out of his seat. It took little more than a few pulls and tugs to release Ian’s wrists from their bonds.
“You’re fucking kiddin’ me,” Ian said, staring Dakota straight in the eyes. “You have to be.”
“I’m not,” Dakota paused. Steve barreled over an infected and accelerated down the street. “I don’t know if I can trust you, Ian, but I’m fuckin’ hoping I can.”
“You can,” Ian said, “because I’m not going to do anything to either of you.”
“HOLD ON!” Steve screamed. “I SEE PEOPLE AHEAD!”
“PEOPLE?” Dakota cried.
Steve slammed his foot on the gas.
Dakota and Ian went flying forward.
“What the fuck?” Erik breathed.
“What’s going on?” Jamie stood up to get a better look.
“Look at all the zombies.”
A booming sound in the near distance stopped Erik from speaking. Unsure of what to say, Erik paused, frowned, then lifted the radio at his side. “Sergeant. Come in Sergeant Armstrong, over.”
“Sergeant Armstrong here. Over.”
“Corporal Marks and I just heard what sounded like a crash in the distance. It may be civilians. Over.”