Tommy’s hand trembled as he gripped the radio tight. “Best floor it, yeah?”
Laila slammed the accelerator down. The van fishtailed before rocketing forward, the landscape blurring past.
Tommy clung to his seat as they tore into the gathering dusk.
“What the hell was that about?” Jimbo said. “Someone got an axe to grind over Zero blasting those road pirates?”
“Sure sounded that way.” Tommy craned his neck to scan the road behind them, his thoughts racing.
He needed to speak to the other bands. But with open radio channels, that was a risky move.
He stared down at the radio, expecting that voice to cut through at any moment, but the handset remained silent.
Beside him Laila struggled wrestling the wheel as the van hit potholes at dangerous speeds.
They needed to rally and form a plan.
“We can’t just keep fleeing blindly,” Laila said through gritted teeth. “They’ll run us into the ground.”
“If we halt though, it gives away our location,” Tommy said. “Might have to risk it though.”
From the back Jimbo leaned forward. “Bust a U-turn. We outnumber those dudes. We can set up an ambush, take them down before they know what’s hit them.”
Micky shook his head. “Don’t be crazy, man. You’re just assuming there’s more of us. We don’t know nothing about who those guys are. Could just make us easier targets.”
“So, what? We gonna drive all night hoping to lose mystery psychos threatening to murder us? We’re sitting ducks on these roads, dude. We need to make a stand.”
Tommy held up a hand. “We need a strategy, not panic.” He took a deep breath “I’m pulling us off-road. We need to figure out our next step face to face. We can’t use those radios for now.”
Laila slowed the van as Tommy signalled Roxy and Zero to pull over.
They bounced onto the roadside gravel, the sudden swerving and loss of speed sent Micky and Jimbo lurching sideways with muttered curses.
Rattling into the brush, Laila parked them behind scraggly bushes and cut the engine.
The other vans followed suit.
In the abrupt silence Tommy let out a slow breath. “Everyone out for a quick meet. We gotta make a battle plan, now.”
The other band members filed out to huddle by Tommy’s grille, the engine clicking as it cooled.
Dusk painted everything in muted greys as the sky continued darkening.
Tommy raised his hands before complaints started, his voice low and urgent. “I know, I know. Pulling over opens us to attack. But we need a strategy beyond just running down the highway.” He swept his gaze across the group. “If they want payback for earlier, seems we gotta stand firm and face them head on.”
Jimbo nodded. “Damn straight. We make our stand right here, let those road pirates roll up for an ass-kicking!”
A few voices rumbled in agreement but Nix shook his head. “Hold up. We know zilch about who these people are. Could be two guys, could be a whole damn platoon. We need intel.”
Roxy drifted over next to Zero, her jacket pulled tight against the encroaching night chill. “Nix is right. Roadside ambush might just make us easy pickings. We need to scout the situation before charging in blind.”
“There’s no time for that,” Micky said. “While we sit here chatting it up Scary Voice Dude is coming to carve us up.”
“Okay look, both sides have fair points,” Tommy said. “We’re exposed out here so we need to keep moving.” He gestured down the shadowy road behind them. “But an unknown enemy is just as dangerous if we react blindly without more details.” Exhaling slowly, he met their eyes one by one, feeling his responsibility for each. “We need proper reconnaissance first. Two volunteers to double back stealthily, gather what intel they can on terrain, numbers, weapons, then race back with a report.” He glanced around the tight circle of faces. “I wouldn’t ask if the stakes weren’t high for all of us.”
Spike flipped his cigarette butt and stepped forward. “Ah hell, I never been called stealthy, but can try playing spy if needed.”
Beside him, Laila also raised her hand. “I can help.”
“Okay then. Spike and Laila will scout back. Learn what you can then return fast as able. We’ll shelter in place awaiting your report.”
Zero shook his head. “Let’s not rush into things, yeah? Let’s hear some more ideas before you start splitting us up on a dime.”
Micky nodded. “We could camp out here. We take all precautions. Kill lights, hunker down and watch each other’s backs for the night. Let them pass.”
Zero rubbed his chin. “Maybe. Could leave us open to attack if they find us though.”
Roxy nodded. “We can’t sit here hoping things will work out.”
Tommy glanced her way, his brow furrowed. “What did you have in mind?”
“Before everything went to crap, I did this drive a dozen times. I know the backroads pretty solid. Could get us on those roads if we want to vanish awhile. Throw them off our scent.”
“You really wanna risk these dirt paths in the middle of the damn night?” Spike said. “One puncture out in the wastes and we be zombie food by dawn.”
Roxy cocked an eyebrow. “You got a better idea?”
“I say we double back to that FEMA camp instead. Strength in numbers and shelter to boot.”
Zero scoffed. “Right, good idea putting our fates in the hands of military imprisonment. Hey, why not just ship ourselves off to Gitmo? At least we know that place’ll be secure.”
“Stow it with the propaganda,” Roxy snapped, glaring over at him. “Last thing we need is you frothing up more chaos.”
“It’s not about chaos. It’s about avoiding their traps.”
“Okay. We’re going down this road again, huh?”
Zero rolled his eyes. “I think it’s clear what we need to do—”
“No.” Tommy crossed his arms. “No offense, man. But we’re not looking for excuses to shoot our way out.”
Zero held up a hand. “Just hear me out. We use those radios to run some deception tactics. Broadcast a false position to misdirect them.”
Tommy blinked. “Could definitely work in theory. Cloak and dagger stuff while we ghost towards Elko.”
“Bait and switch, baby.” Jimbo chuckled. “Make them mugs chase their tails trying to pin us down.”
“Alright, unless anyone objects, we try it Zero’s way.” Tommy began to pace. “Broadcast we’re doubling back to Camp Hope while we carry on for Elko. Should buy us enough lead time to lose any tails.” He pointed at Zero. “But no hero stuff, got it? We steer clear of confrontation.”
Zero returned a mocking half salute. “Sure thing, boss man. We do it your way.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
The bands dispersed to prepare.
As the vehicles rumbled to life, Tommy glimpsed Zero regarding him sidelong.
Back in the van, Tommy stared down at the radio as the last light faded.
He took a steadying breath and keyed the mic. “Alright folks, we gotta make tracks back towards Camp Hope if we’re gonna plead our case.”
“Here’s hoping they’ll let us in after dark,” Roxy responded. “But we might need your sweet talk skills again getting us past the gate.”
“Maybe if I bake them some cookies too they’ll take pity,” Tommy said, trying to sound relaxed despite the pulse pounding in his skull.
He kept one eye glued to the highway, half expecting headlights to come screaming out of the darkness in pursuit.
“If cookies don’t work, maybe we can bribe them with a private concert,” Zero said. “Though if Tommy’s singing, they might just lock us out faster.”
A few strained chuckles answered before Roxy keyed in. “As tempting as Tommy’s siren call might be, perhaps we offer watch duty shifts instead?”
“It’s settled then,” Tommy said. “We’ll offer up our questionable music talents and our first batch of burned cookies as tribute.” He wiped sweaty palms along his jeans.
“Sounds good,” Roxy said.
“It’s worth a shot,” Zero said.
Tommy set the radio down and waited for a response, or taunt, or any hint that their pursuers had heard their message.
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He watched the road.
Dead silence.
Tommy resisted the urge to hail Roxy and Zero again.
Laila reached over to squeeze his wrist. “It was a smart play. Have faith.”
They sat immobile for agonizing minutes.
But no vehicles rode along the highway.
He thought of Niamh and Sean again, the need to carry on for them eclipsing every other drive now.
“What should we do?” Laila asked.
Tommy glanced down at the radio. “I don’t know. Maybe I could mention going to Camp Hope again, or something.”
Laila shook her head. “Bad idea. They might have heard the previous messages.”
“Yeah. And they might not.” He puffed out a breath. “I hate not knowing.”
Finally he clicked the mic again. “I can see Camp Hope ahead. We sure this is the right play?”
“Yep,” Roxy said.
“I see it now,” Zero said. “Let’s hope they’ve got some spare beds. My back is killing.”
“Not the only thing that’s killing,” Tommy muttered.
He turned to Laila. “We should get moving.”
The engine rumbled to life and Laila pulled the van back onto the highway.
Tommy held the radio tight, scanning for threats in the darkness.
And with each mile closer toward Elko the knots in his gut twisted tighter.
The first buildings glimmered past a rise. Elko—and hopefully reprieve from pursuit.
As the band’s vehicles approached, Elko’s outskirts emerged from the darkness dotted with floodlights illuminating a towering barricade.
Laila eased up, squinting.
Guard towers loomed over the perimeter, with figures patrolling catwalks armed with rifles.
Unease rippled through the van. Laila blew out a slow breath. “Looks like some kind of military facility. Maybe we should double back, find a way around.”
Jimbo scoffed. “And go where? Dopes back there probably still chasing their tails.” He leaned between the front seats, nodding towards the barricade. “I say we nose on in. Clearly these dudes ain’t messing around. Safety in numbers. Might be able to help us out.”
Tommy hesitated, weighing options. He toggled the radio. “Roxy, Zero. You seeing this up ahead?”
“Yep, clear as day,” Zero replied. “Camp Hope. Looking good.”
Tommy clicked the mic again. “I say we proceed in carefully. If the scene feels off we just politely retreat. But we need rest and shelter tonight pretty badly.”
“Agreed,” Roxy said. “We case the scene at least. Gear up in case things go sideways.”
They approached the reinforced gate slowly.
Heavily armed men and women eyed them warily, fingers resting on triggers. A muscular bald man stepped forward as Tommy lowered his window. “Evening folks. Name’s Tommy. My friends and I have had a rough go lately just trying to find safe harbour. What are the chances you might have space to take in some weary travellers for the night?”
The guard’s stern face cracked slightly with a hint of sympathy. But suspicion still lingered in his stare. “You’ll have to pardon our precautions, friend. But plenty of desperate folk would lie, cheat or kill for the security we worked hard to carve out of this place.” His eyes assessed the vehicles critically. “So what’s your business passing through these parts exactly…Tommy?”
Tommy licked his lips. “We’re in bands. We were on tour back in California. We’re trying to get back home to Philly.”
The guard whistled. “That’s a long way.”
Tommy sniffed. “You’re telling us.”
The guard looked inside. “Any bites? Infections? You’re not hiding some infected friend in the back or anything?”
“We’re all clear, man.”
“Good. Looks like you’re pretty stocked up in there. You looking to trade?”
“Maybe.”
“Alright. You can come in. Leave any weapons in your vans. And if there’s any trouble, you’ll have to leave.”
“Thank you.”
Laila nodded. “We really are very grateful.”
The guard waved the vehicles through the gate into a parking area. “Alright folks, everyone out. Weapons stay locked up.”
His stern face had softened, almost welcoming now.
As they exited the vans, Tommy took in more details of the fortifications and layout. The main street bisected a small town that looked halfway converted into a military base. Sandbags and concrete barriers formed checkpoints at major intersections.
The bald guard strode over. “Name’s Reggie. I’ll give you the nickel tour so you know the score around here.”
He gestured for them to follow, his boots crunching on gravel. “When those freaks first came boiling out of the cities, small towns like ours were overwhelmed fast. We barricaded inside the sheriff’s office at first, losing good folks left and right trying to maintain order.”
Laila fell in beside them. “But you managed to rally and take back control it seems.”
Reggie nodded. “Most abandoned the area. But some of us refused to quit our home. We scavenged the highway, nearby farms, anywhere to find supplies for fortifying this place. Cleared the streets inch by inch until we carved out this safe zone you see now.”
“Hell of an achievement,” Tommy said.
Reggie shrugged. “Maybe so. But we paid a heavy price. Course threat still lurks all around, but we handle things best we can.”
Tommy cleared his throat. “We passed a FEMA camp earlier—Camp Hope. Are you affiliated with that at all?”
Reggie’s mouth twisted. “You mean those government handout camps with enforced curfews? No interest being herded around like cattle after all the blood we shed claiming this place as our own.” He turned down a side street. “We’ve seen their buses come through encouraging everyone to board up for ‘proper aid and housing.’” He snorted. “Just rounding up survivors like livestock to lord over.”
“Can’t say I blame you,” Tommy said. “Seems you carved out something good on your own terms here.”
“It’s home, that’s what matters.” Reggie nodded towards a large communal hall beside a church. “Food line’s still open if you folks are hungry. We can talk more inside.”
Tommy followed him in. After days subsisting on canned beans and protein bars, the smell of cooked food made his mouth water.
Long tables filled most of the hall. A melting pot of families, former soldiers, and random survivors all ate and talked beneath strings of lightbulbs.
The outpost was a buzz of activity despite the late hour. Children chased each other laughing while adults tended tasks like darning clothes or cleaning weapons. The atmosphere felt jarring after endless days among only the band.
Reggie found them space at a table before leaving to fetch food.
Micky shook his head. “Man oh man. Forget the food, just soaking in the normalcy here is worth stopping in.”
Laila nodded, tension easing from her face for the first time since the radio threat. “It’s pretty inspiring seeing what people can accomplish when bonded together.”
Reggie returned balancing plates of hot stew. “Bonds here run deeper than blood after all we endured together. But we welcome good folks to help keep this place alive.”
As they ate, Reggie waved a hand towards various people around the hall. “Take Dale over there for example. He owned the local auto shop before things went belly up. Now he keeps our vehicles running and fortified up with metal plates.”
Dale looked up from where he sat cleaning a rifle part, raising a grease-stained hand in greeting.
“And that woman stacking chairs is Theresa. She was a middle school teacher. Now she runs classes for the young’uns and helps run the kitchen.”
Micky paused eating, his eyes widening. “Whoa whoa, back up. You still have actual school here? With kids learning math and junk?”
Reggie chuckled. “Well, maybe not quadratic equations these days. But we’ve got a mix of parents and former teachers doing basic reading, writing, some history, and such. Nothing fancy grade-wise, but structure and learning matter for giving kids hope beyond just survival.”
Theresa set a chair down and made her way over, smiling warmly. “I don’t know how much they’re retaining these days, but we make do.”
Micky snorted. “Man, if I had algebra class in the apocalypse I would have just peaced out.”
“Oh I don’t know,” Laila grinned and elbowed him. “Remember how you were the one who handled dividing our gig payouts?”
“Yeah okay.” Micky laughed, “Maybe math matters a little out here.”
Reggie waved over a muscular, grey-haired woman assembling a rifle. “Our fortifications are Kristen’s domain. She was a mason before, now she oversees wall reinforcements.”
Kristen clicked a rifle piece into place. “My crew might not be pretty, but they can brick and mortar with the best of them.”
“Impressive setup,” Tommy said, shaking his head.
“It wasn’t easy,” Reggie said. “But consolidate enough folks together and you can achieve a lot. Having access to hardware shops and resources around town made it possible.”
Tommy raised his coffee mug. “I’ll toast to that. What you carved out here goes beyond just surviving day to day. It’s living. And that gives hope.”
“We’ve been lucky. We’ve kept the electricity running and we’ve still got warm running water.”
“Seriously, you even have steady running water and power? That’s huge.”
He regarded Tommy. “The point is, we stuck together and carved this place out through cooperation and elbow grease. No government involvement needed. That’s what matters most these days I’d say.”
“Yep.” Tommy swallowed a chunk of beef. “It’s tough out there.”
“We’ve spartan quarters if you folks need a safe place to bunker down awhile. And of course, you’re welcome to a hot shower.”
Tommy exhaled. “That’d be incredible, thank you.”
Reggie clasped Tommy on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you folks to eat in peace. We open up early if you want to resupply or upgrade any gear before heading out.”
As he moved off, the group dug into the first hot meal they’d enjoyed in weeks.
Around mouthfuls, Micky grinned. “Man, I knew small town folk could be welcoming but this is above and beyond.”
“Seriously,” Tommy said, sopping up the last streaks of gravy with a piece of bread. “These people fortified the place through sheer grit. Electricity, running water, defensible walls…it’s amazing.”
“They seem to have a good thing going here,” Laila said.
Zero paused. “Yeah, they welcomed us in fast. Almost too welcoming…”
Roxy rolled her eyes. “Something on your mind there?”
He held up his hands. “Just saying we shouldn’t let our guard down completely, that’s all.”
“Here we go,” Spike muttered.
Zero nodded, pointing his fork at Roxy. “We don’t ultimately know these people or all their motives yet.”
“Time out.” Tommy put his spoon down. “I know tensions are still high for all of us. But some faith in humanity wouldn’t hurt sometimes.”
Zero glared over his bowl. “Faith won’t stop a knife in the back, Tommy boy.”
Tommy sighed. “It’s called optimism, man.”
As the group debated, snippets of conversation from nearby tables cut through.
A pair of scavengers had just returned from a supply run to Idaho. They spoke in low tones about skirting the outskirts of Salt Lake City.
“…can’t believe you went so close to that hellhole. Once bandits and raiders moved in the place was done for.”
His friend shook his head. “Wasn’t that bad actually. The Mormons dug in hard when things first turned ugly. Whole chunks of the city centre are still functioning.”
“I heard the exact same thing,” an older woman said from the next table. “My cousin was holed up there before coming here. Swears it’s secured by militia types.”
The man next to her scoffed. “That’s horsecrap, Diane. Reggie said Salt Lake’s been dark for days now. Overrun or full anarchy or some such.”
“All I know for sure is we give that place a wide berth no matter what,” the first scavenger said.
An icy chill crept down Tommy’s spine. He met Laila’s equally sobered gaze.
The next morning Tommy awoke feeling truly rested for the first time since setting off on tour from Philly.
The smell of coffee brewing coaxed him from his bed to meet Laila grinning in the communal kitchen. “Could get used to this, eh?” She topped off two mugs.
“No joke.” Tommy inhaled the rich aroma before taking a sip. “Let’s go check on the others. We should do a supply tally, take on anything we critically need for the next leg while we have the chance.”
She looked Tommy up and down. “How was the shower?”
“Amazing.”
“I know, right? Felt like I was covered in grit.”
He chuckled. “Yep. I don’t know about you, but I feel like a new man.”
They took a seat with the others as a bowl of boiled eggs made its way down the table.
Tommy peeled an egg and set it down to cool. “So what’s the plan here? Do we hang around here awhile or do we keep on toward Philly?”
“Philly’s still a long way off,” Spike said.
Tommy nodded, looking down. “Yup. But the longer we hang around, the longer it’ll be. I just want to get back to my kid, you know?”
Zero tilted his head. “I get the urgency, Tommy. But we should think this through before charging ahead.” He leaned forward, lowering his voice. “Parts of Utah sound dicey at best. We could be heading into a war zone. Maybe we scout around first, get concrete intel on what areas are actually stable.”
Tommy sighed, glancing at Laila and Micky. “I’m torn. I don’t want to rush blindly if it puts everyone at risk. But I can’t abandon Niamh either.”
Laila put a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever we decide, we’ll get through this together.”
Micky stared into his coffee. “I’m with you to the end of the line whenever that may be.”
Tommy managed a small smile. “I appreciate that, Micky.”
After a lingering silence, Tommy exhaled. “Okay. We gear up the best we can here, then carry on cautious but steady. We all watch each other’s backs no matter what we find farther inland.”
The others murmured agreement and carried on eating.
After breakfast, they traded supplies and tracked down Reggie to thank him again for the hospitality.
“Happy to help out,” Reggie said, shaking Tommy’s hand. “You folks stay sharp out there. Take care of each other.”
Back in the van, Tommy sat in the driver’s seat.
As they pulled out of Elko, Laila kept scanning the road behind them.
The radio crackled.
“We’re still coming for you punks,” a voice came. “You’re already dead.”