Polly slept soundly in the back seat of the Volvo as they drove north. The abandoned vehicles on the highway were more sparse, and the businesses and homes along the way were thinning out. Farmland and forests opened up around them, a welcome sight to everyone.
By lunchtime, Lakewood was a few miles up the road. Dense forests of maple, elm, and ash lined the road, offering a beautiful, if somewhat limited, landscape for travelers. The occasional pond would flash by the windows, holding great blue herons searching for frogs and other prey in the shallow waters. The majestic birds would mostly ignore the vehicles, though a few did take flight as they passed.
Turning off Highway 32, they pulled into a gas station that appeared to be open. Mikel and Byron were walking towards the entrance when a grizzled old man came out of the attached garage. His slight frame made him appear entirely unexceptional, which was their first mistake. The second was continuing to the station’s entrance despite his approach.
“Who are you? Why are you here? I have been sitting in that garage watching the road all day since two, tree, fou-day ago, an nothin’, now you. Why?” He spoke with a lisp and sounded like he might have been from New Orleans once upon a time. His accent was so muddled now it was almost impossible to determine.
“We’re just passing through, hoping to fuel up the cars. Definitely didn’t want to cause any trouble.” Byron explained to him.
“Shush up now. Ain’t time for you ta talk ta me. I just need to set this off real quick, so hold on. Then we can all have a nice, relaxing conversation.” He pulled a flare gun from his jacket and fired it into the air.
“Back to the car. NOW!” Mikel ordered as Byron ran past him.
Mikel turned and started sprinting to the Rover, watching as the Volvo doors opened and Jesse, Nick, and Seth sprang out, armed with the upgraded military rifles from the depot. Behind him, he heard a commotion starting. The sounds of several people running towards the gas station yells and gunshots into the sky and vehicles coming in from further away.
Byron was at the Rover and was busy arming himself. Mikel skipped the Rover and went to the back of the Volvo. Popping the hatch, he popped off the cover and removed a medium-sized grenade launcher and a case holding a sniper rifle. He returned to the Rover with gear in hand, and everyone got back in their cars.
Within seconds, both vehicles were flying down 32 at ridiculous speeds as the locals gave chase. Deer rifles fired consistently, keeping the drivers on edge as 30-06 and 30-30 rounds tore grooves in the asphalt around them. Some of the vehicles were gaining on them. The hatch on the Volvo popped open, with Seth and Nick suddenly appeared. They started firing their rifles at the front tires of the lead vehicles. Nick took out the oversized left front tire of an older, lifted Ford F150. The driver overcorrected and sent the truck into a sideways spin. Once it was completely sideways, it started rolling. The three men in the bed were crushed underneath as it rolled over them. It took to the air and came down on a car that was two vehicles behind it.
Brakes squealed, cars swerved, and then the chase was on again. A few vehicles backed out, stopping to help with the crash site. Seth was still targeting the other lead vehicle. He had peppered the hood and bumper with rounds but hadn’t hit the tires. The radiator let out steam and antifreeze, but not enough to cause instant damage.
In the Rover, Mikel and Byron had traded places, giving Mikel the ability to open the sunroof and take aim with the grenade launcher. He targeted the second row of trucks and fired. The grenade connected with the front left bumper of the middle truck. The explosion sent the truck into a tumble, which smashed into the vehicle on the left. He then picked up his sniper rifle and started targeting drivers. Within a matter of minutes, the chase was over, the surviving drivers having stopped their pursuit, and little Hope was crying.
If you come across this story on Amazon, it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.
“We just wanted some gas. I’m going back.” Mikel was pissed off.
“No point, man. Let it go.” Byron was trying his best to calm Mikel down.
“Come on, Mikel. We’ve got more important things to do than worry about an old hillbilly and his gas station.” Julie wanted nothing to do with a revenge mission.
“She’s right, man. Let’s go to the cabin, have a drink, maybe soak in the hot tub, then figure out the Sal/David angle. And hell, maybe you can stop by on your way back.” Byron said the right words. Mikel nodded acceptance, then sat down hard in the passenger’s seat.
The five drove in silence for the next 20 miles until they found another gas station. Tractor trailers were lined up at the truck filling lot, and a few passenger vehicles were stopped at the regular pumps. There were even a few people milling about.
“Park us at the diesel pumps furthest from the entrance,” Mikel said, sounding tired and a little defeated.
“Will do. You sound like you could use a coffee. Headed in?”
“Yep. Jesse and I will go check it out. Then I’ll call you guys to give you the all-clear.”
“I need to pee. I can pee in here, but I’d rather pee in there.” Becka was squirming around in her seat.
“Okay, come with us.”
Byron and Julie got out with Hope to fill the tank and get some air. Mikel, Jesse, and Becka walked off to the truck stop.
Nick was filling up the Volvo. Seth, Stevie, and Polly walked around the car, stretching their legs. Behind the pumps was a small grass patch used to walk dogs, though it was currently unoccupied. Byron asked Julie to watch the pump and started towards the grass. As he did, he was suddenly joined by Nick and Seth. The three recounted Mikel’s shooting while they watered the grass. When they were done, they turned around and were applauded by the rest of the group. Nick turned bright red. Seth and Byron goaded them on.
Jesse went to the counter and asked about payment. The young man said there wasn’t any but that they accepted any food or other goods that other travelers may need. The semis were all fuel trucks and had decided this random station was their last stop. Everything was gratis, and any help was appreciated.
Mikel and Becka exited the restrooms in unison and then found Jesse, who updated them on the state of the gas situation. Mikel offered to leave a hundred MREs, which the worker gratefully accepted, and in exchange, took a Red Bull and two boxes of red vines. Jesse called the group, and soon, everyone was in the store, trading for goods and checking on reports from throughout the country.
Seth learned that the Pacific Northwest had been hit particularly hard, and no word of survivors had been heard from since Monday. Seattle was on fire, as was Portland. The Air Force had bombed Los Angeles and Sacramento in an attempt to stop the spread of werewolves into the hills beyond. It didn’t work.
Salt Lake City had been overrun by Sunday evening, as most of the infected had attended church services on Sunday and attacked their fellow parishioners. Denver had burned to the ground, and a crazed person had stolen a warhead from an abandoned base nearby, loaded it onto an airliner, and detonated it 2000 feet above New York City. No word on the accuracy of that report yet, nor of the state of NYC. No news has been heard either way from the Big Apple since Tuesday.
The news about NYC was terrifying. The idea that a deranged citizen could easily take a nuclear warhead and detonate it over a metropolitan city was far too much. After everything else they’d dealt with so far, that left them numb. Jesse had family in NYC. She looked at Mikel and shook her head, fear in her eyes. Mikel took her hand and walked outside with her back to the Volvo, where they retrieved a sat-nav device.
He sent a message to three groups within direct visual range of the city. There was no immediate response, so they reached out to a broader range of contacts. After several minutes of trying, they finally connected with someone on a sailboat 60 miles off the coast. They confirmed the destruction and added that the origin story was false. The Air Force dropped the bomb. It was determined that NYC was no longer considered a viable option for sustaining human life. The wolf population was over 50%, by all estimates. Some had it as high as 70%.
There had been other cities targeted, including Miami, Houston, Washington DC, and Atlanta. The losses of human life were considered to be less than 100,000 total between all cities. The damage had already been done. Now, the government was on cleanup duty, and they were focusing on eradication.
“What the hell do we do about David and Sal?” Byron asked.