The cars climbed onto the interstate and found themselves locked in gridlock hell. Mikel climbed up on a tractor-trailer to get a better view of the area. The freeway was a mess. Cars were bumper to bumper from the onramp for as far as he could see. There were several fires burning along the way, with no sign of any living souls out there. After scanning the horizon for a few minutes and checking out the surface streets, he climbed down and got into the passenger seat of the Volvo. Jesse dialed Julie, and they connected over Bluetooth, so everyone was included.
"Freeway's out. Stacked, as far as I can see. I saw a few fires out there, way too many accidents, and it's solid from barricade to barricade. Surface streets look better. It'll be slow, but we'll eventually get out of town. Since we can't get on a freeway, how about we head north and go around Milwaukee way?” Mikel was thinking of staying fairly close to the shore but inland enough to have an escape route if needed. The idea was people would avoid the shore because they couldn't escape over the water, so they'd head inland, making the roads closer to water far less congested. Or so he hoped.
The next 3 1/2 hours were spent getting from downtown to Highland Park. There were a few people along the way, though they wanted nothing to do with the travelers. There weren’t any wolves to be seen, but it was the middle of the night, so they were probably there, just watching and waiting for their opportunity to attack.
Jesse turned on the radio just after 4:00 AM and hit scan. An FM station playing modern pop came on, so she pressed scan again. It stopped on NPR. Luckily, the local college station was still on the air.
“As the water is unpleasant, to say the least. So don’t resort to that unless you really have to. Check the dates on your canned goods. Most things last a year or two after the expiration date unless it’s been opened. Don’t use that logic with dairy.”
Mikel smiled to himself over the dairy comment. He reached over and held Jesse’s hand. She squeezed back, the two sharing the memory of the time expired sour cream was nearly the death of them.
“Back to the last report from the CDC. If you come in contact with an infected person, do not engage them. If they see you, get something between yourself and them. Lock a door, get in a car, anything that will slow them down. They will give up after a few hours.
"If a wolf joins them, there, unfortunately, isn't much you can do unless you are armed. If so, a headshot is generally just as fatal as it is for a human. Avoid contact with their blood, as there have been unconfirmed reports of people becoming infected and turning after contact with the blood.
“The best option so far has been to shelter in place and avoid windows, loud noises, and venturing out.
“Let’s get back to basic preparation techniques.”
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
Mikel switched off the radio. Seth couldn’t help himself and let loose a canned food diatribe.
"Organic, foraged foods can be stored just as long, and in some cases, much longer, than anything these industrial slaughterers of the American people stuff in a can. Pesticides, horrific tolerances for bugs, rat droppings, chemicals, and all sorts of other atrocities are allowed in there." His voice had risen from a car-friendly tone to a near shout.
“Okay there, Seth? Thanks for your…thoughts. I think we’re okay with the food we have, and knowing that we have the two best foragers in the world with us is certainly a plus. We’ve been on the road for a while now, so I think it’s time we talk about something far more important than the shelf life of canned goods.” Jesse responded.
“What’s that?” Mikel asked, a little surprised.
“We haven’t interrogated our new member thoroughly and to the point of tears yet.” She said with a smile.
“Oooh, you’re right!” Squealed Becka.
"We don't have to. I'm good." Stevie sounded like a traumatized 12-year-old.
“Of course we do, my dear. Without a thorough vetting, how do you know we aren’t a bunch of axe murderers taking you out into the woods? Oh, wait. Damnit. I said that backward, didn’t I? How do we know you aren’t an axe murderer?”
“She’s shit with a hockey stick.” Seth laughed.
“I am not. you were just bigger than me, and I wasn’t ready for that move.” Stevie countered.
Pretty soon, the entire car was filled with laughter as everyone shared stories and got to know each other quite well.
#
The baby wouldn’t stop crying. It had been over half an hour. She didn’t have a messy diaper, she wasn’t hungry, and when Trisha tried to soothe her, it did no good at all. Byron had checked her throat and ears to ensure she was healthy, so it wasn’t a medical issue they could easily diagnose.
Trisha was at wit’s end. Julie reached up and took little H in her arms. She unwrapped the baby, then swaddled her tightly and held her close. After a few seconds, she stopped crying and was soon fast asleep.
“Well, screw you very much, Julie. I always get along with babies.” Trisha said only half kidding.
“I guess she likes my perfume or something. Maybe it’s like what her mom wore. I’m not sure. You can use it if you’d like.” Either way, Julie just knew the baby liked her more.
"I'm just happy she stopped crying for a minute. What do we do now? Just sit and enjoy the silence?" Sal sounded genuinely curious. He hadn't been around very many babies in his life, and the few he had dealt with convinced him that the less he dealt with them, the better.
“She should sleep pretty hard for a few hours, then she’ll take a bottle. In the meantime, we should rotate nap times. I’m choosing Trisha and me to take the first shift. We’ll swap with you and Julie in a couple of hours. Sound good?”
“No, you idiot. You’re napping with me. We’ve spent exactly…zero time together since Monday morning. So we nap with little H, then when she wakes up, we all switch.”
“Deal.” Sal and Trisha chimed in.
“What about me?” Polly asked.
“Haha, sorry, Polly. You are the quietest person on the planet, you know that? Who would you rather stick with?”
“I like little H. So I’ll sleep first round.”
“Perfect. Get some shut-eye, and we’ll keep going.”
About 20 minutes later, Sal pulled over, and Trisha drove. Sal was busy plotting their route on his phone when he looked up and saw the barrier approaching the front of the car at approximately 60 mph. The phone started ringing. Trisha sat up and screamed. The car hit the passenger front first before folding the rest of the front end into the cement. Sal watched it happen in slow motion as he thought, I bet this is going to suck.