As soon as they all four awoke, they left the control tower without remorse nor hesitation. The early daylight hours stretched their shadows out in front of them almost like compass needles, guiding them to the west exit of the NAS. It was a little chilly oddly, probably because of the breeze that had picked up overnight; Ellis kept his coveralls zipped up all the way for extra warmth. The unexploded portion of the Boomer carcass lay in a heap, buzzing with flies that had no doubt decided it made a good place to lay their eggs. It made the mechanic cringe, wondering if the infection could spread through small insects– the world was screwed if it did, cuz cockroaches and 'skeeters got everywhere and it seemed you couldn't kill the suckers even if you wanted to.
They got back to the interstate without a hitch, nothing much to impede their progress, which was a boon. A few patches had clumps of common infected, but it wasn't anything the now-trained gunmen and woman couldn't handle. Ellis kept a watch up front himself, save the casual glances he couldn't help but take back at Nick, admiring him in short inconspicuous intervals. He was able to peck off distant infected with more ease than ever before, finding the military sniper to have a much more consistent accuracy– it was built to do its job and adjusted correctly on top of that. He peered through the scope again to take a cursory look over the stretch of asphalt beyond them, scanning it with a minute horizontal sweep. His eyes however caught on a billboard on the side of the road. It was advertising the Orange Park Auto Mall, proclaiming FOURTEEN DIFFERENT DEALERS in big bold lettering, along with 'Best Selection in Jacksonville!' and 'Stop in and visit, get a great deal, guaranteed!'.
Moreover it indicated said auto mall lie on the next exit, Blanding Boulevard, Hwy 21, which was what stuck in his mind most. Ellis had studied the green-circled map intensively– Highway 21 could take them southwest right towards Starke. Getting off on the exit wouldn't get them there, but it would be a good segue, a good opportunity to ask again… like Nick had suggested. He just needed to be more confident this next time.
He dropped his scope. "Any of y'all wanna go car shoppin'?" he asked conversationally.
Nick chuckled beside him. "Fucking zombieapocalypse and the kid wants to browse for a new ride." Ellis showed him his tongue.
Coach however, who was hauling the majority of their baggage once more since Nick had filled his stint yesterday, looked intrigued by the comment. "What we got comin' up, boy?" he huffed.
"'Fourteen dealerships, huge inventory, everything in stock, Acura to Nissan Z-car'," Ellis read off from the ad copy, a hint of sarcasm in his voice from the promises made by the sign's hyperbole; Nick and Rochelle both laughed.
The reporter became more serious as she thought more deeply about the notion. "You think they have anything left?"
"Dunno," Ellis shrugged, finding it not improbable that dealerships would have been heavily plundered by anyone who'd run their own vehicles out of gas and were desperate for a few extra miles granted by the tanks that were always left partially full for test drives. His gaze moved over to Nick, attempting to convey to the other man wordlessly that he had more in mind than just trolling for cars– that getting off here would give him an excuse to ask again about the detour to Starke. The green eyes flashed, understanding what he was trying to do.
"It's right off the road, isn't it?" the gambler asked nonchalantly, playing him off, working to tip the scales.
"Reckon so," Ellis answered quickly.
The football player grunted, hitching the heavy gun bag up higher onto the shoulder it had been slowly slipping off of, seeming to consider the weight. "Let's give it a look," he agreed; Ellis kept from jumping up and down in triumph, though Nick was well aware of the cheeky grin that spread across his face as he went back to his scope.
They came upon the exit only a few minutes later, and Ellis could see through his scope that the Mitsubishi, Cadillac, and Honda dealerships that lie closest to the freeway were decimated, their lots empty and barren. His nose wrinkled with worry. Further up though… he squinted through the device… he could see glints off windshields and shiny paint, shimmering in the sun that dotted the ground through the cloud cover. Huh… he hadn't noticed before now that it was starting to cloud over… He blinked and moved his gun. Up on a pole that stuck out from the ground was the familiar blue oval logo that had proudly stood on the grill of his own baby, the white cursive font a testament to over one hundred years of good engineering.
Thank the Lord, apocalypse and all, there were still good ol' American cars. Hell, maybe this was a better plan than he had guessed! He gave a whoop. "Oh, there's cars alright!" he announced to his compatriots, a greater bounce in his step as he hurried down the off-ramp. "Hurry, y'all!" His enthusiasm seemed to rub off on the others; Rochelle even issued her own "Woohoo!" after him, her plump lips pulled into a smile.
The eldest man shook his head. "Sometimes it kinda seems like we're babysittin', don't it?" he divulged to the conman, giving a chagrinned chuckle.
Nick gave him a sly smile in return. "Only sometimes?"
They had to pass by the other blocks in order to get to the dealership; Ellis' eyes were already round with the selection of gas-guzzling F-150s and Super Duties as they walked up, the larger four-to-five passenger trucks gleaming with chrome and sitting suspended on thick, tall black tires making his old little Ranger seem insignificant in proportion. Still, a truck, though Ford's speciality and his own personal preference, wasn't what they would be looking for. He moved on in search of a more suitable choice; Nick and Rochelle and Coach trailing along beside him.
Just stepping further onto the lot made him grin like an idiot. He weaved in and out between the vehicles, looking them over, quickly losing the others somewhere behind him. His friends became captivated in their own ways– Nick in the numerous Mustangs that had been left, again likely for their fuel economy, Rochelle in the few remaining compact Focuses in the more vibrant greens and yellows and magentas no doubt left for their eye-catching colors. Only Coach seemed to keep a wary eye, placing himself equadistant from them, shotgun up and at the ready.
"Let's try not to get ourselves too split up," he cautioned them gruffly.
"Ain't nothin' tuh worry about; don't seem tuh be many zombies around," Ellis said casually, focused on the features proclaimed on a sticker tag. He pushed his sniper rifle around to his back and pulled up the hood on the vehicle to start poking around. He had to admit that the lack of zombies so far today was a little weird; he screwed off the oil cap to remove the dipstick, checking the level of the fluid purely out of habit. A single droplet landed on his hand from out of the sky, causing him to look up. Those clouds were starting to get more and more oppressive… darker too. Could be a quick shower or a big storm on the way. Maybe it was the weather that was driving the zombies away? Either way, it was a lucky break for them, unless it really did start to pour… it was definitely known to flood down here.
He readjusted his hat and shut the hood, catching the reflected glint of Nick's white suit in the smooth paint. He licked his lips. When he looked up and over to the conman, his eyes caught on a small SUV parked beside him, particularly the indication on the side that claimed it to be none other than an Escape Hybrid.
The mechanic rushed over, shocked at their luck. "Y'all," he announced with a hint of pride, "I think I jus' found us our new escape vehicle."
Nick was by his side first, green eyes scanning the selection. "It's even called an 'Escape'," the gambler seemed amused, his arms crossed but his chin rested on a couple fingers, "how apropos."
"Oooh," Rochelle eyed the sticker, "Thirty-four city, thirty-one highway? That's not bad for an SUV." Ellis nodded in agreement; fuel was in short supply, their feet would thank them for every extra mile they could get per gallon.
"It'd certainly hold all our supplies," Coach chipped in with a grunt, readjusting the straps on his shoulder yet again. Ellis hurried around to the back, lifting the hatch open so the football player could confirm the fact. He set the baggage down with a relieved sigh, lots of space to spare even with the guns and medical supplies and all the rest. Hell, if they had known this was down the road, maybe they would have taken one of those belt guns from the cache and welded it to the side of the vehicle– or maybe a flamethrower or two to the grill. Ellis gave a snort of laughter to himself at the very thought of such a modification; he had obviously spent too much time watching bad action films and James Bond flicks.
"Yougin'," Coach clapped him on the back, driving the air out of him ever so slightly, "I think you're right. We just got ourselves a new car." Ellis felt his hopes lift, pride tingling within his chest.
"Gonna name her Betsy?" the conman shot, meandering around the right side to open the side door.
The big man only laughed. "Don't see you comin' up with any names, Nick."
The conman had settled into the passenger seat, reclining it fully to put his scuffed soles up on the dashboard as he rested his hands behind his head. "This is nice," he commented aloofly. "I think I could stand a few miles in it."
"Try a few hundred," Ellis spoke through the back of the vehicle at him. "If we kin fuel her tank tuh capacity, she'll go a heck of a long way." He paused, then tacked on loud enough for Coach to certainly hear. "Maybe even to New Orleans, or further."
The football player visibly paused, turning to give him a somewhat stoney, tight-lipped look. "What you tryin' to say, boy?"
Ellis sucked in a breath. Well, now or never, do or die. "Well," he began stoically, standing up straighter to deliver his words, "Starke's only thirty miles south'a here on this here road. I reckon a little detour by car'd only take an hour or two an' we'd be back on the highway– assumin' there ain't nothin' there fer us, a'course."
Rochelle's earrings jingled as she glanced between them both; Nick turned around in his seat to oversee, the cushion giving a squeak. Everyone seemed to have gone quiet.
Coach sighed, relenting. "What about the rest of ya?" he polled.
Nick gave an absent wave of his hand, facing back towards the windshield. "I say we go," he said as he folded his arms.
Rochelle pushed some hair back behind her ear, looking slightly nervous about voicing her opinion. "I have to admit… I am a little curious… if only for journalistic purposes," she added. Her brown eyes gained a determination. "If there's a story, I want to get to the bottom of it."
The eldest man gave a slightly wearied nod. "Then we go. Ellis, I'd like a word with you, boy." His voice gruffened. "Alone."
The mechanic blinked rapidly at this. "Wit' me?" he asked, confused.
Nick tilted his chair upright suddenly; Ellis caught the flicker of puzzlement on his features before his face melded back into an unscryable state. Coach nodded.
"Well, a'right," Ellis shrugged, not meeting the older man's eyes directly. He fought the nagging in his stomach, already worried at what the big man wanted 'a word with him' about.
"Y'all start siphoning. With whatever you can get your hands on," the football player ordered Nick and Rochelle. He looked at Ellis as the other two moved to fulfill the command, and those hard woodened eyes bearing down on him softened to the consistency of melted chocolate.
The fear he had formerly felt instantly dissipated at the change in their leader's affect. And he had to wonder if his rash words back in the control tower were still affecting him in some way, or if there was something more going on.
Coach motioned him towards the showroom of the dealership with a gloved hand; Ellis followed obediently, determined to try and set things right between them.