*Going through and editing! Read back a little bit, because I wrote in the wrong car. Nick's driving a Santa Fe, NOT a Sonata! My bad!
XII
…
He'd only stopped in a convenience store for a few minutes after getting on the road. The little gas station in Jackson that he'd come across had held all the supplies he'd been hoping for. Nick picked up an atlas of the entire country, and with Dal's help he stocked up on food for their journey. He hadn't been eating much since he'd been left behind in New Orleans, but he knew that Dal would only last so long. As an infected, he didn't eat anyway. And that was bad.
"Last time we got on the main highway," Nick said calmly, "We were on 16 and there were miles of parked cars in our way." He glanced at Dal to see if the Hunter was listening. He seemed to be hanging on to Nick's every word, "If this is going to be the way I'm thinking, then I can easily guess that all the interstates and main highways are going to be packed with cars. Our best bet is routes and back roads to avoid all of that."
Dal nodded, "I hope you don't get car sick, because people tell me I'm a car accident waiting to happen." He smirked lightly, "Anyway, it seems like our best bet would be…" He traced the map with his middle finger, clicking his tongue as he figured their best route.
"I'm going to stop a few times along the way to go over this map so that I can memorize the way." Nick had traveled through every state in the country, with the exception of Virginia, and he had been through Georgia and the Carolina's multiple times. He'd never been a big fan of the west coast, hence why he'd never actually traveled very fast past the Mississippi. He did have a habit of avoiding Atlantic City, entirely because he wasn't interested in accidentally running into his parents or brother. It was truly ironic that he would be heading home in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.
He shuddered, hoping that his parents and brother had died or become unrecognizable infected. He didn't want to see them ever again.
Especially Scott, he thought bitterly.
Dal tapped his leg and Nick glanced over at him, "Oh yea. Let's go." He turned the key and the engine came to life instantly, lights flickering on. The gas was completely full, so he would be able to travel quite a few hours. They'd stayed the night in Jackson, sleeping in the car. It was bright and early in the day; he had plenty of time to cover a lot of ground.
Dal didn't like the car; he was constantly tense and especially didn't like anything remotely similar to a curve. Nick was trying to be easy with his driving, but Dal was like a cat that really just didn't like moving without his feet doing the walking.
At least the Hunter wasn't freaking out like some cats did.
.
"Maybe there's some gas in this station," Nick grumbled as he pulled over beside one of the pumps and clambered out of the car. Dal had learned to effectively open and close the doors, though Nick had already decided that the young infected was not going to drive his car – ever. It wasn't that he didn't trust Dal; it was just that he didn't trust his attention span.
As usual, Dal positioned himself in a spot where he would be able to see anything and everything that happened and stood guard while Nick got the pump working. Luckily, this one was still functioning properly. Nick glanced over his shoulder, spotting Dal easily. He had developed an eye for the Hunter, to the point where he could probably look through a crowd of infected and spot him without trouble or hesitation.
"Dal," He called, catching the Hunter's attention, "I'll be okay out here; why don't you go inside and see if you can find anything useful?" Dal tilted his head curiously, "Like, medical supplies, water, food… you know, the likes?"
He seemed to understand with more specific directions. Nick watched as the Hunter's eyes swept the area once more, looking nervously at his conman, "If something happens, you'll know about it."
This seemed to only slightly reassure Dal, as he crept into the busted out window of the convenience store and disappeared. Nick sighed, returning his gaze to the pump.
The gas tank in this thing must be massive… He thought with a slight frown. He glanced over his shoulder at the store, a bad feeling pitting itself in his gut. Dal had been looking paler than normal, and his movements had become a bit sluggish. It was probably just fatigue; he'd been doing a lot of late nights recently.
He habitually replaced the pump in its spot and glanced to the store again. Dal was taking a ridiculously long time. He started towards the small building, listening carefully for any sign of a struggle.
As he had suspected; the sound of low growling reached him, interrupted by a sudden screech of surprise. Nick all but jumped through the window, pulling out his newly acquired pistol.
He didn't bother calling the Hunter's name, instead scanning the top of the shelves for movement. Third aisle, he could see a cloud of putrid green smoke filtering into the air. He heard a panicked cry, followed by an irate snarl. He wasted no time running around to the other side of the aisle and coming up behind the Smoker.
Dal had dug his foot into the ground and was leaning back while trying to free his arms. The Smoker tightened his grip and took a step forward, never noticing as Nick came up behind him silently and took aim, firing directly into the back of his mutated throat. He seized up, every muscle in his body tightening and twitching for a brief second before he collapsed into a heap on the ground.
Dal fell backwards once the grip had slackened, looking startled. Nick walked over to his side and extended a hand, a scowl on his face. Dal seemed to understand that he was in trouble, though Nick didn't bother to snap at him.
He helped the Hunter gather the rest of the supplies, keeping an eye out especially for any more Special Infected that might take interest in the Hunter. He wasn't able to find any food, but there was a 24 pack of Poland Spring Water that Dal carried out to the car for him while he stocked up on medical supplies. It was amazing that so many people had stopped to grab food and water, and despite the known danger of the infected, hadn't bothered to pick up anything for their likely accumulating injuries.
Nick heard a fairly upset and rather noisy whine from Dal. He sighed heavily and took what he had outside.
The Hunter was frustrated; he didn't know how to get the sliding side door open. Nick raised his eyebrows as he tried and failed to hold back his laughter. He joined Dal at the Santa Fe's side and demonstrated how to open the door. He looked positively miserable at the idea that he hadn't been able to figure it out on his own.
"Its fine, Dal," he said with a chuckle, "I've never taught you how to use this door."
That seemed to make him feel a bit better, though he was still pouting. Nick set the water down on the floor of the vehicle and organized the medical things on the seat. As he was doing that, Dal clambered into his seat in the front and waited for him.
He should be all proud of himself for being able to open any doors. There isn't another infected in this world that can. Nick shut the door and joined Dal in the SUV, glancing over at him. He still looked pale, and for some reason Nick could see a ridiculous amount of exhaustion on his face.
"Hey," He reached out and tapped the Hunter's shoulder. Dal looked up at him, blinking blankly, "How come you weren't able to get that Smoker before he got you? Hunters are supposed to be faster."
Dal frowned, looking down at his lap. He shrugged mutely, and Nick sighed, "Buckle your seatbelt." The Hunter obeyed, and Nick started the car.
"If something was wrong," Nick began as they drove out of town and back onto 13 and picking up the speed. He glanced briefly at Dal, who was staring at him blankly, and sighed, "If something was wrong, would you find a way to tell me?"
Dal was staring at him like he had grown an extra head. Nick scowled at the road ahead of him, watching out of the corner of his eye as the Hunter nodded. He understood that Nick knew something was up.
Yea, but, the conman thought uncertainly, maybe he doesn't know that something's wrong.
It wouldn't be surprising for Dal to be completely tuned-out when it came to his body, considering the known fact that he had rabies. If he was getting sick, then Nick would have to stop to treat him for a day or two. He followed a slightly turn as he considered the idea of temporarily stopping to give Dal a quick check up, but he didn't want to stop in a spot where they wouldn't be able to find a house to hole up in should it be necessary.
"Get some sleep," Nick suddenly said, "You haven't been doing enough sleeping lately. If you get sick, I'll have to stop to take care of you. So let's just go ahead and nip this in the bud."
Sometimes, he felt like Dal's father, and other times his mother. Dal was getting comfortable in his seat, practically sinking into the cushion as his eyes closed. Despite the fact that the young Hunter had only been looking off for a few hours, Nick was already feeling a pit of worry, if not dread, boiling in his chest.
The evening had taken on a whole new approach to the idea of darkness. It was pitch black, and Nick had his low beams on; the last thing he wanted was to attract something big that he couldn't run over. Dal had gotten worse since they'd left Grove Hill, his face taking on a greenish pallor. Nick had been forced to completely halt the car at one point while the Hunter stumbled onto the side of the road and heaved at the ground, spitting up the bottle of water that Nick had forced him to drink.
There was a city that Nick was relatively familiar coming up in a few miles; Macon. He'd spent a few short months living there with his first wife, Sarah. He wondered if her well-sized house was still standing. Sarah had inherited millions from her grandparents, and thus had become a snob shortly after Nick had been introduced. Either way, she lived in a nice house on the outskirts of the city, luckily on the side that Nick was coming in from.
He could hear Dal's teeth chattering. They had been doing that on and off for a few minutes; Nick reached over and turned the heat onto full blast. The vehicle heated up quickly, and he could hear Dal shifting slightly in his half-consciousness.
"Here we are," he muttered to himself, slowing the vehicle down significantly as he spotted the familiar white pillars that framed the driveway. Nick pulled up to the driveway and glanced down the well-populated streets. When he had been married to her, Sarah's house hadn't had this many neighbors. Either way, it was nice to know that he wouldn't have to go far for more supplies. He could see larger buildings just a little ways down the road. The trees that had once sheltered Sarah's house were gone, leaving a majestic looking palace behind.
It wasn't really a palace, but it was a big house. And compared to where Nick had been sleeping for the past several weeks, it was the equivalent of a palace. The conman glanced over at Dal, who was barely awake and staring at the fence. He had a look on his face that made Nick worry, but he brushed the thoughts aside quickly.
"Hey," He said, pulling the Hunter's attention away from the ominous fence, "I'm going to go and open the fence. You stay right here, okay?" The kid nodded, glancing around the area nervously.
The air was eerily quiet compared to the last time Nick had been in Georgia. Or perhaps it was just where they had been in Georgia. Savannah hadn't had that many people, but that amusement park had probably housed more infected than thought possible.
Then again, it was still odd because Macon wasn't Savannah; Macon was a city, with a metropolitan and everything.
Deciding it would be best to put those thoughts aside and simply bless his luck, Nick walked over to the fence to glance it over. Thankfully, it wasn't wrapped up in chains, only held shut by gravity. He pushed each side of the gate open and propped rocks against them to keep them there. He glanced around briefly; it was still quiet, but that wasn't particularly making him feel any better.
He got back into the car, where Dal was still sleeping. He put it into drive and pressed gently on the gas, accelerating up the slight incline. Nick got back out of the car once he had parked it again, walking around to Dal's side of the Santa Fe and opening his door. The key was already shoved deeply into Nick's pocket, where it would likely stay for the next couple of nights.
Dal opened his eyes and sluggishly turned to look at Nick, who was reached around him to unbuckle his seatbelt, "We're staying here for a couple of nights."
The Hunter didn't give him a reaction; he was getting worse fast. Nick beckoned him, stepping just far enough away to give Dal room to clamber out of the vehicle. "Dal?" The kid wasn't responding to his words in any way, only staring at the conman with glassy eyes. Nick took a step forward, rejoining him at the side of the car. He didn't move other than slowly allowing his eyes to slip shut again.
Nick sighed, the sound coming out nervous. Despite his reservations, he leaned into the car and proceeded to drag his Hunter pal out of the vehicle, kicking the door shut behind him.
"Dal, come on," he grunted, "At least open your eyes."
He could feel Dal tensing up against him, and it was easy to notice the sudden decrease in the weight he was carrying when Dal put his weight into his legs. He whimpered, but Nick tried to ignore it as he guided him to the front door. The key was in mailbox, and Nick took a few seconds to retrieve it and unlock the door. He had no idea why Sarah had taken the time to lock up her house, but he was thankful for it. It would prove to be somewhat like a fortress, thanks to the barred downstairs windows. She had been extremely paranoid.
That had probably been Nick's fault, though.
A/N
Semi-filler chapter! This chapter was hard, and dull to write. I don't expect you lot to love it at all. I'm fending off writer's block, so if I don't update again within a couple days, don't be surprised. I'm doing my best!
Oh jeez! What's wrong with Dal! Any ideas?
