According to the GPS they were officially northwest of Madison. Looking back Cameron had no idea how the hell they made it so far using almost nothing but back roads. And unfortunately they still had a long way to go before reaching Canada—what was worse than that was that they had to keep using back roads in Canada until they found a place to stay.
"You hear that?" Marge asked, perking her head up.
Cameron slowed down to decrease engine noise a little, and then he heard it too. It sounded like they were closing in on a bunch of trucks. The road veered to the left, and up ahead Cameron saw a truck convoy cross the intersection in front of them. He counted at least fifteen pass by: Target, Walmart, Costco, various supermarkets, moving trucks, company trucks, all kinds.
"Holy shit," he breathed, coming to a stop. The convoy passed, with regular cars just behind them, and at the very end of it was an army personnel carrier, which came to a stop in front of them. Four people in army uniforms got out pointing their rifles at Cameron's car. The rest stayed inside keeping an eye on the perimeter.
"Out of the car!" one of them ordered.
"What do we do?" Cameron asked Marge.
"We get out of the car," she said, pulling the door handle. "Jack, get out slowly."
"Keep your hands where I can see 'em," the same person ordered as the three of them opened their doors.
Marge and Cameron raised their hands. Jack was timidly raised his too.
"Pants down. Shirts off. We have to check for bites."
Cameron did so without hesitation, but Jack didn't follow that order as easily. Marge had to comfort and keep him calm as soldiers came closer with their rifles still raised.
After a quick look over, they were pronounced clean, and the soldiers put their rifles down.
"Sergeant Isturez, Wisconsin National Guard," the one that had barked out the orders said, extending his hand. "Sorry about that, we had to make sure none of you were infected."
"I understand," he said, shaking his hand. "Cameron."
"Marge," she said to the sergeant, also taking his hand. "And my son Jack."
"Our Commander had us secure a small town west of here, and we're working on building up it's defenses," Isturez explained. "You're welcome to join us there."
That presented Cameron with a dilemma. On the one hand there was the promised protection of the National Guard—not only that there was no guarantee of safety in Canada. On the other hand a bunch of people being put into one area was always a potential powder keg.
"What do you do with infected people?" Marge asked.
Isturez shook his head sadly. "We have no cure for a bite, ma'am. We gotta put down all those bitten, whether they turned rabid yet or not."
"I'm going, Cameron," Marge told him without hesitation. "What do you think?"
"Sure," Cameron said with a shrug.
There was then a resounding gunshot from the personnel carrier, followed by another and another.
"Sir, the infected we picked up on the way are closing in on us!" one yelled. "We have to go now!"
"Get back in your car, and follow us," Isturez told Cameron and Marge, running back to the carrier.
The three quickly got back in the Honda and made a left to follow. He had to drive up next to the personnel carrier so as to not get in the way incase any soldiers were still firing. In the rearview mirror Cameron saw that indeed a horde of zombies was chasing after them, but they were getting smaller and smaller.
When it was safe Cameron fell back behind the carrier. As they made their way through the usual twists and turns of the back roads, while he wondered what kind of defenses those people were putting up.
Would it be good enough? Could they get overrun one day, meaning that Cameron would end up officially fucked? Was going it going to eventually be some sort of utopia? Doubt it, he thought. As long as it was livable, then that was all that mattered at the moment.
Next to him Marge looked much more relaxed. Perhaps she was much more optimistic about the whole thing, and Cameron hoped that she had enough optimism for the both of them. Being a mom was probably her prime motivation to live in a post apocalyptic community rather than have to fend for herself—which is what Cameron might've ended up choosing if he were alone.
When they made a right at another intersection Cameron saw some buildings starting to appear on his right, and on the left there was a river. Up ahead, he saw that had caught up to the truck convoy. When they got closer he saw that they were being directed by people on the ground to go right onto the grass, where a sort of wall of trucks was being made. The river to the left was acting as a natural barrier.
Were those the defenses he was talking about? Cameron thought horribly. Well, in theory it might work, but he hoped that at least some barbed wire would be put up one day.
The trucks were looked they were being positioned around the perimeter, but it was another personnel carrier that was parked along the entire stretch of road leading into town. It moved as Isturez's vehicle approached the wall, and Cameron followed it in.
Once in town he was directed to park along the side of the road. Cameron turned off the car and got out to take a good stretch.
It was really was one small ass town, Cameron first thought. There were only three entrances to it: the one he just passed, further along where there was only one personnel carrier watching the road, to the right where more trucks were being positioned. The entire place was situated at the foot of a hill that rose to their north. That looked like it was going to be an obstacle for the potential wall of trucks.
Outside there was a bunch of people aimlessly walking around, probably truckers mostly. The next thing that crossed his mind was where all those people (including him, Marge, and Jack) were going to stay.
"Welcome to Yuba, Wisconsin," Isturez said, walking up to them.
"Isn't it a bit small?" Cameron asked.
"Less than a half a square mile," he answered with a knowing smile. "Yup, it's damn small. But we plan to expand out perimeter once we get more trucks in."
"Any idea where we'll be staying?" said Marge.
"People are shacking up in the church and local community center for now—but I imagine one of the locals can offer your family some room," he said to all of them.
Family? Cameron thought, puzzled. Was he included in that? But he didn't correct the sergeant, preferring the chance to sleep in a house.
"Well I have to report back, so try to make yourselves comfortable for now," Isturez told them, taking his leave.
"So…we're safe for now, huh?" Marge asked Cameron, tearing up all of a sudden.
Cameron nodded. "I guess."
"That's great," she said, even more tears now coming out. Marge leaned against the poor beat up Honda to cry some more.
"Mommy, why are you crying?" Jack asked.
"Because sometimes people just need to," she answered, picking up her son and hugging him.
Cameron's phone sprung to life, so he walked away to give the two of them some privacy. His spirits were raised a bit to see it was Mike on the caller ID.
"Hey," he answered, trying not to sound to happy.
"Yo, Cam," Mike answered weakly. "Sorry about not picking up yesterday. Mom didn't let me."
Knew it. "Whatever. Where are ya now?"
"Nowhere, Indiana," he said with a weak laugh.
"Wisconsin for me. So how come you can call now?" What followed was a long pause. "Mike?"
"Mom's gone."
"Oh shit," Cameron breathed. "I'm so sorry."
"It's my fault," he said, as the sound of him weeping started. "I wanted to stop to take a leak. Then one of them came out from a bush and got to her. I beat that thing's brain in with a tire iron but it was too late."
"I know you're going through tough shit man, but you gotta keep moving," Cameron told him.
"No point."
"Why?" Cameron asked urgently.
"I thought my mom was dead, Cam. So I stayed with her—but then she woke up and went crazy on me…. I managed to drive off but she bit me."
Cameron didn't say anything. He just stood there holding the phone to his ear.
"I shouldn't've called, but I wanted to hear at least one friendly voice."
"I'm so fucking sorry, Mike," he responded in a hushed tone.
"So long, Cam."
"See you on the other side."
When the line went dead Cameron sat down hard on the sidewalk, and tears of his own started rolling in. His only consolations were that his parents were safe in Hawaii, and that he was also okay at the moment. But that wasn't enough to keep him from crying like he hasn't cried in years. His best friend was gone, his house was gone, and his entire hometown was gone—and what made it all worse was that many people were more than likely worse off. The world was being taken over by the undead.