Thank you guys for the reviews, I read each and everyone of them. But enough of that, here's the next chapter.
The group threw their belongings in the back of one of Pierce's SUVs, Jeff grabbing the keys and hopping into the driver's seat. Britta had called shotgun, leaving the others to the remaining seats in the back. Shirley had taken the car seat out of her minivan and belted it between herself and Abed, strapping Ben securely in the seat.
"Do we have everything," Annie asked, looking to everyone.
"Everything is packed and in the back," Abed said, looking behind his seat.
"Britta, are you sure that there's a military checkpoint outside of Greendale that will take us to a safe house," Jeff glanced to her.
"Positive, Shirley and Troy heard it too," Britta answered.
Shirley and Troy nodded in agreement.
"If this fails, we continue with the original plan," Jeff's eyes went to the rearview mirror, "agreed."
The study group murmured in agreement.
"Let's hope that broadcast was right," Jeff said as he turned the key in the ignition.
The ride to the military checkpoint was a silent one, none of the passengers daring to look out the windows. Unfortunately for Jeff, he had the perfect view as he drove past(and occasionally through) the carnage and gore left behind on the road. He bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes staring straight ahead and refusing to acknowledge that he might have known some of these corpses at one point.
Two uncomfortable hours later, Jeff had stopped the SUV just in front of the two tanks in the road. The six of them hopped out with makeshift weapons in hand.
"I'm staying back," Abed said, stopping the group before they went forward, "to guard Ben and our stuff just in case."
"Thank you Abed," Shirley said to him sweetly.
"Let's go," Britta said, deciding to take the lead.
The rest of the group fell in line behind her, Jeff bringing up the rear as they trekked toward the checkpoint. A few moments later both Britta and Troy yelped when they reached the checkpoint, the two looking like they were going to be sick.
"Oh my lord," Shirley gasped, sliding past Troy and Britta.
As Shirley began praying, Annie and Jeff finally got to look at the scene. There were at least twenty soldiers in front of them, all of them bloody, ripped apart, and strewn about the road. Jeff's mind went back briefly to what he drove by on the road. While some of the bodies were torn apart like the soldiers, others were more intact. Except for the few small holes. He put two and two together and knew exactly what happened.
"They were bringing in refugees," Jeff broke the grim silence between the group, "those people on the road back there, that's who they were. They were like us, they were looking for a safe haven."
He didn't meet their eyes when the group looked to him, listening to his every word.
"They were so close to that safe haven," Jeff continued, "but a few of them were infected. Those infected turned as they were walking and attacked and it spread. The army had no choice, they had to shoot to kill."
"Oh my god," Britta was both shocked and disgusted.
"They shot innocent people," Annie said, her voice quiet.
"And they still died," Shirley added on.
"I was going to say we were too late," Troy shook his head, "but we were lucky."
"Extremely lucky," Jeff began glancing around, "we should take what we can from here."
"Jeffrey," Shirley scolded, "we are not stealing from the dead!"
"It's not stealing if they're dead," Jeff knelt down to examine a discarded gun.
"Exactly," Britta agreed, "it's not stealing, it's survival. I want to survive, Shirley. I want all of us to survive, even if it means taking from a dead man's hands."
Shirley stared at Britta for a moment before begrudgingly agreeing with her. As the group spread out to check out the loot, an object at Troy's feet had caught his eye. He bent down and picked up carefully, smiling when he recognized what it was.
"Hello grenade," Troy said in a sing-song tone, "I have a feeling you'll be useful one day."
