“Okay,” I said, following him down the stairs and out of the front door. The boxes were loaded into the back of the Land Rover. Tanya sat in the front passenger seat while Lucy sat in the back.
I climbed in the back next to Lucy and stowed the M16 by my feet.
“What was so interesting in there?” she asked.
“It looks like the owners ran away,” I said. “I think there were clothes missing, and some of the medicines from the bathroom cabinet had gone too.”
“The place was probably robbed,” she said. “The back door was open.”
“I don’t think thieves would have taken the toothbrushes. There was an empty holder on the sink. Whoever lived there left in a hurry.”
She looked through the side window at the house. “I wonder where they went.”
Sam started the engine and revved it a couple of times before putting the Land Rover into gear and taking us along the path toward the narrow potholed road.
“They probably went to the harbor and took a boat,” I said to Lucy.
“I don’t blame them; they were living next to a village full of zombies.” She sat back in her seat and looked out at the sea as we hit the road and bounced over the potholes.
I felt more relaxed now that we were in a vehicle. At least the Land Rover offered some protection if we were attacked.
Tanya unfolded her map and opened it on her lap. When the road we were on intersected with a wider, two-lane road, she told Sam to turn left. The wider road was much smoother.
In the distance, I could see a group of zombies shambling across a field together. I wondered if they were wandering aimlessly or if they were following a noise or movement that had attracted their attention.
We drove for almost an hour in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I wondered how long it would be before I saw Joe and my parents again. I tried to convince myself that they were still alive. Joe had always been tough. He was a natural survivor. He’d be okay and would make sure that our parents were too.
I was dragged from my thoughts when Sam put the radio on. Nick Tucker was talking to a guest, which was something I had never heard on Survivor Radio before.
“So what is your advice to survivors, General?” Tucker asked.
A voice that was deep and confident replied, “Our advice to survivors is the same as it has always been. Find a survivors camp in your area and go there. Let us take care of you. It is too dangerous to try and survive on your own. If you don’t know where your loved ones are, they are probably in a camp. We can reunite you.”
Sam shook his head. “If you don’t know where your loved ones are, they’re probably dead, man.” He reached to turn off the radio but I stopped him.
“Wait. I want to hear what he has to say.”
“Why, man?” Sam said. “You know they just talk bullshit.”
Tucker thanked his guest and then said, “Remember, people, you need to be in one of our camps if you’re going to make it. There are signs on the roads and near every town and city denoting the location of the nearest camp. Go there now. I beg of you.” He paused for dramatic effect, and then added, “Here is David Bowie and ‘Life on Mars’.”
“You hear that?” Sam asked. “They’ve got that DJ wrapped around their finger. ‘Come to the camps, I beg of you’. He even said ‘our camps’. I bet he’s working for the military.”
“We’re working for the military,” I reminded him.
“Well, it’s not the same thing. We’re not telling people lies.”
“I don’t think they’re lying just because they’ve set up camps to help people.”
“Those camps are there to control people,” he said. “They’ve told everyone that the rest of the world is infected and it isn’t true. People without hope are easier to control.”
According to Sam and Tanya, the virus hadn’t reached America. “Have you ever thought that they might be right? We don’t know what’s happened to the rest of the world. For all we know, the virus has spread across the globe. A lot of the survivors are safer in the camps than wandering around out here with the zombies.”
He looked at me in the rear-view mirror. “Wow, you’ve changed your tune, man. I thought you hated authority. You’ve seen the camps. Do you really think anyone is better off in one of those makeshift prisons? Because I sure don’t.”
“I have to believe the camps give people a chance of survival,” I said, “because my brother and parents are in one.”
“Okay, man,” he said, backing down slightly. “We’ll have to agree to disagree. I hope your folks are okay.”
“And what about the people who lived in that farmhouse back there?” I asked. “Do you hope they’re okay too?”
He shrugged. “Of course, but what do they have to do with…”
“They were listening to the radio when they decided to leave their house and take their chances,” I said. “They didn’t even bother to switch it off when they left. What if they heard that broadcast you did and decided to bug out? They might have been safe enough in that isolated farmhouse but they heard that message and went for a boat to get to Europe. The nearest place they’d go would be Muldoon. There’s a harbor there after all, and plenty of boats. They might have wandered into a village full of zombies because of you and your damned message.”
Tanya turned in her seat to face me. “Alex, there’s nothing wrong with telling people the truth. How they deal with it is up to them.”
I ignored her and looked out of the window again at the fields rolling by. I wasn’t really mad at her or Sam for doing what they thought was right but I hoped that their radio broadcast hadn’t spurred Joe and my parents into leaving whichever camp they were in. If they were still in a camp, I could find them. If they were wandering in the wilds, we probably had zero chance of being reunited.
Tanya turned to face front again and gave Sam some instructions, pointing at the map as she did so.
We reached an intersection where the normal road sign had been covered over by a bright red sign with black lettering that read SURVIVORS CAMP. Next to the lettering was the same Ministry of Defense crest that was on our ID badges.
“Well, there’s no chance of missing the camp,” Tanya said, folding the map and putting it into her pocket.
Sam took the road indicated by the bright sign. High trees on both sides of the road blocked the view and most of the sunlight so that we were plunged into shadow. Knowing that the camp was close made me feel nervous.
Since the apocalypse had begun, I had spent most of my time running from the military or avoiding them. The thought of having to come into close contact with soldiers made me anxious.
My anxiety grew when, after we had driven for another twenty minutes, I saw a large red sign affixed to a tree. Like the other sign, this one bore the MoD crest and the words SURVIVORS CAMP, along with a thick black arrow pointing at a side road that led through the woods.
Sam slowed down and turned onto the smaller road. It was not much more than a dirt track, but I could see wide tire tracks left by other vehicles. The route looked like it was used frequently and had been used recently.
We had gone about a mile when Sam began to slow down. Ahead of us was a checkpoint, which consisted of a sentry box with a small gate that could be raised or lowered. At the moment, it was lowered and a sign on its metal grille said STOP.
The sentry box seemed to be empty.
Sam hit the brakes and put the Land Rover into neutral. “We need to lift the gate, man.”
“I’ll do it,” I said. The area seemed to be deserted and I supposed that the soldiers who should be working the checkpoint were taking a break somewhere nearby. I opened my door and got out. Maybe I should call out. It could be that the soldier who should be manning the sentry box was taking a piss behind one of the trees.