RIVER FLOWS NORTH — PART 5
Morning didn't come quickly, but when it did, it was bright and warm, adding the slight pain thumping behind his eyes, sensation Troy could remember so clearly from two nights ago and his horde incurious. His eyes burnt, too.
He eased out of the flatbed, stretched his legs, and slowly disappeared into the forest to relieve himself before returning to the jeep to check the wheels and water and prepare for the day.
Alicia watched him lazily. He looked a tad befuddled as he climbed out of the Jeep and disappeared into the forest behind her. Nick appeared to still be asleep, so she abandoned the fire to gently rouse him as Troy returned. She rested one hand on her brother's leg, just below his knee where she knew he was ticklish, and squeezed gently.
"Nick? You awake?"
"What?" Nick blurted, blinking the sleep away.
Maybe the leg-squeeze was a bad idea, considering how abruptly he jerked awake.
"It's okay," Alicia murmured, trying to meet his sleepy gaze. "Just time to get ready, is all."
She took a seat on the flatbed beside him, putting the rifle they'd been taking turns with throughout the night down.
Nick let out an abrupt exhale that reverberated with a throe in his chest, and slipped to the ground, afraid to stretch.
"I'll get ready, then," he said, waving a hand at the bushes. "You slept okay?"
"Better than expected." Considering she shared space with Troy for half of that time. "Your ribs okay?" It was the same question she had asked the morning before, but since her side was still sore, it wasn't all that unlikely his was, too. Come to think of it, she should have checked herself in the bathroom mirror back at the restaurant. But it had blown right past her mind.
Nick considered her question, and shrugged. "I guess they're bruised. It hurts. But I suppose it'd be worse if they were broken. Are you feeling okay?"
Alicia smiled a little, glad he was being honest and not just trying to soothe her worries. "Same. I'm sure Troy would have told us if he heard something crack."
He frowned momentarily. What she referred to was probably CPR. And some of it could be that. But Nick felt like something was hurting inside, too, like when he fell off that horse. Maybe something else got bruised, with no telling what and how. And of course, she didn't need to hear the details now. Or ever – if it was going to heal eventually, it was fine.
He smiled. "If he heard it at all. You need to feel your ribs and see if there are any sensitive areas and how bad it is. It's not broken, but still, the bruises gonna need time to get better. Maybe a few more days."
"I will," she promised, getting to her feet to stand before him. "How's my head look? Bigger than usual?" Said in jest, though she was curious to know how the cut had healed. Her head didn't hurt anymore, except those moments she accidentally touched the wound itself, so that seemed promising.
"The bruise only gets worse with time until it fades, you know that," he said, smiling, and leaned closer to see through the bandaids. "The cut looks better, though. Not infected, so all praise the Mexican moonshine. If we could soak our ribs in it, we'd be already healed."
He winked and strolled for the bushes.
Alicia smiled, reassured by his assessment, and watched him head for the line of trees and shrubs Troy had made use of earlier. Like it was their designated pee-spot. Turning her back, she shrugged out of her jacket and lifted the hem of her shirt to give a quick examination of her torso. There were indeed bruises blossoming on her left side and the skin beneath the line of her bra, but it didn't look too bad. Like Nick said, they would fade in time.
Using one of the spare water bottles Troy filled up the jeep's radiator to keep the engine from becoming toast, disposing of the bottle into the clearing. There was nowhere else to get rid of it and to carry it around until they found a place was senseless. That wasn't the world anymore, and he doubted a hippie was going to be ballsy enough to appear from the depth of the woods declaring that Troy was polluting and attempt to fine him. Or worse. It was too late for that, and he suspected, in part, the reason all of this apocalypse bullshit was happening, to begin with.
Troy snapped the hood closed and made a mental note to try and find oil on their next stop at a gas station. If they didn't find any, they were going to be forced to change vehicles, and he was quite fond of the space in this one.
He reclaimed the driver's seat, waiting on the Clark siblings to finish their morning ritual before driving them off and out of the private area Alicia had found the day before to find the interstate again.
When Nick returned from his bush detour, Troy was already in the car ready to drive on. They climbed in and made use of their protein bars as Otto steered back to the Interstate.
The next few hours on the road were relatively quiet. Troy and Nick exchanged words every now and then, but Alicia didn't pay much attention, finding some serenity in the unusual calmness of her own mind. She wanted to take advantage of that before something stirred all her worries again.
When she saw the outline of a gas station up ahead a little later, Alicia leaned forward in her seat so she wouldn't need to scream for the two up front to hear her over the music.
"Should we stop? Check for more fuel?"
"Definitely," Troy stated. That had already been his plan. They needed more water for the radiator and oil was a must – if they could help it.
Only the deeper in or higher north they got, the more hazardous it appeared. Not with people as of yet although he knew they had to be out there somewhere, but with the dead.
They were everywhere, shuffling from hiding as the jeep sailed past at a formerly decent speed limit. Any faster and they'd burn fuel faster and this whole thing would get even more complicated than it already was.
Troy didn't like the idea of risking what they owned when unlike at the ranch there was nothing with which to replace it.
When they reached the gas station, they immediately alerted the fifteen or so dead wandering back and forth amidst a crush of abandoned vehicles. If Troy had to take into account the state of their decomposition, they almost looked fresh. Weeks old instead of months.
He rolled the jeep to a stop a short distance away and considered.
"Are you guys up to it or should we push on?"
"Oh yeah, if you don't mind us stinking up your car."
"Might as well," Alicia reasoned. "Don't know when the next opportunity will be."
For fuel, that was. Not killing.
Nick smiled and stepped out, pulling his knife out. He picked the closest walker, made a quick job of stabbing him in the temple, trying to ignore the pain and how his breath kept catching in his throat at every throe in his chest.
Nick sliced the blade down the corpse's stomach and performed his habitual routine. The other dead were upon him already, but they slowed down, crowded around him, as though they no longer saw him as anything worthy of attention.
No longer hasty - which was a blessing for his pains – Nick pulled the jacket off the corpse, then another one off the next one he stabbed. He tossed them on the hood of the car for later use, then went back into the wandering crowd, taking them down one by one.
Alicia followed her brother outside, unsheathing her knife, and called out to the dead who had gathered around him. A few of them broke away and came for her. She took a few steps back, leading them away from the herd and taking them down whenever they came within her reach.
She didn't cover herself in the putrid blood of the dead as her brother had, so she had to move with a sense of urgency to ensure no one would take a bite out of her as she worked. All in all, it was far from the worst encounter she had experienced.
Unlike with the people Alicia knew who had turned, putting down the corpses wearing strangers' faces no longer brought any guilt to her heart. It had almost become routine. Like pulling weeds from a garden.
Nick had to know Troy wasn't asking because of the stench or because it wasn't a good idea, he was asking because there were a lot of the dead and the siblings were still injured. It had only been twenty-four hours since both had almost died, and Troy wasn't naïve enough to think that either were fully up to speed.
He replicated their action and got out of the car, unsheathing his knife, heading for the crowd Nick had gathered, yanking one away from him onto its back before driving a knife through its skull.
Troy picked off another and played with this one. He drove a knife into the dead's hand, slicing off a couple of fingers as he did, and dodged the clumsy attempts to grab at him, enjoying the dance and dodge of death. After delivering a kick to the wasted's knee and sending him on a one-way ticket to the ground, Troy stomped on the back of his head, repeating it harder a second time until the dead stopped wriggling.
With the three of them working in tandem, they rid themselves of the walking dead quickly.
Troy flicked the blood off the knife, bending to wipe it clean on the corpse, and then returned it to his side, stepping over the body to go in search of the items they needed.
Once the mob was taken care of, Nick went straight to the store. There wasn't much left, but a couple of huge water bottles for a cooler were hidden in a storage room. That was a lucky break.
Alicia briefly followed her brother into the store, but unlike him stayed close to the exit, searching the aisle that would have held motor oils, windscreen wipers, sponges, and the like. It was close to picked clean, but she did find some empty plastic petrol cans she carried back out to Troy in case they were lucky enough that the abandoned vehicles weren't depleted.
Nick checked the restroom. The tap was barely trickling. He washed his face and hands, then returned to his companions, dragging one of the cooler bottles.
"Anyone checked for fuel? There's another one back there, by the way."
"Nice," Alicia flashed Nick a genuinely pleased smile and headed back inside to pick up the large bottle he'd left behind. It was damn heavy. In fact, she was a little embarrassed how quickly her arms tired from hauling the container back outside. She would blame it on her injuries, but in truth, she thought she just lacked the raw strength when her adrenaline wasn't wreaking havoc.
Still, she managed to carry it all the way to the car and slide it into the back next to the one Nick had brought, bracing herself against the flatbed once she finished to regain her composure.
While they'd been busy inside the convenience store, Troy popped the trunks on the vehicles one by one and riffled through them. There was quite a bit of stuff.
Unfortunately, not much in the food department.
Troy found a set of radios. A device in each vehicle as if they'd been communicating with each other, and a solitary charger. Where would they even have used them? Did where they were coming from have electricity?
He rifled through the dashboard, removing the map loosely tucked inside, trying to gauge if there were any markers or pointers to say where they were from.
There was nothing. They were simply moving ghosts.
He folded up the piece of paper again carefully and tucked it into the back of his pants in case they'd need it or got lost, and turned to regard Nick as he appeared with a heavy bottle of water and Alicia with two empty containers.
Definite gold.
"You shoulda let Troy get it," Nick chided Alicia when she slumped against the flatbed almost breathless.
"It's like I did that push-up last year for nothing," Alicia joked, turning to look back at Troy over her shoulder.
Troy eased out of the car, and checked the pump attached, pressing at the trigger and watching the machine to see if the numbers rolled.
Nothing happened.
He removed the pump, repeated what he did, and then clipped it back into place before trying again.
"Empty," he stated, returning to the car again to clean the radio, leaving the second tank to someone else. "I've found some clothes though and these radios that might come in handy. It only looks like one works for now. We'll have to try and find a generator to juice the rest overnight."
They turned when Troy announced there was no gas. It would be a shame to have to abandon their "ship", but this was an Interstate, where gas stations were most likely drained a while ago.
"We need to search smaller roads for fuel," Nick said. "Generators are even rarer species."
Nick was right. They needed to hit the spots where no one had been before them. "That a local map you found?" Alicia asked Troy. She could have sworn she saw him pull one from the glove compartment in one of the abandoned cars.
"Looks like it," he said, removing the map from where he'd tucked it away, handing it over to Alicia. "I figure these people were rolling together, ran out of resources—probably food—since I didn't find anything in any of the cars as of yet." Once she took it, he carried the radios over to the jeep, dumping them onto the backseat, and returned to one of the cars to search through the clothing for a new shirt or even a fresh pair of jeans.
Nick shrugged off his marred jacket and put on one of those he took off the dead. He folded the dirty one inward for a future fight and tossed it on the dashboard. The third one went into the trunk.
"So we taking a smaller road, or it's maybe smarter to actually get to that cabin and then venture out in search of gas? I don't think we'll benefit from looking for that cabin in the woods when it's dark 'cause we wasted time running around and spending even more fuel trying to find some."
Alicia unfolded the map on the flatbed, eyeing the roads she knew they had taken, until she thought she could nail down where they currently were. Just about, anyway.
"Might be best," she agreed with Nick, keeping her eyes on the map.
Troy removed a t-shirt with a Bart Simpson decal, frowning as he eyed the cartoon, half amused and half disgusted that it was the only option.
He missed his fatigues.
He hung it over his forearm, along with a high school sports shirt and a pair of jeans he planned to substitute once the pair he was wearing got stiff with blood or in need of trashing.
"You guys might want to see if there is anything else you want in the fashion department. There's quite a bit. I think these people were coming from their homes," he stated as he joined them to take a look.
Who knew when next they'd get this kind of shopping opportunity?
"Troy say how much gas we've got left?" Keeping one finger on their current location and the other on the area the cabin was supposed to be located, Alicia looked up to meet her brother's gaze. "Do we have enough to make it there?"
Nick waved in Troy's direction as he approached. "You gotta ask him yourself."
Troy tossed the clothes into the back of the jeep on top of the radios, retrieved the empty canisters that Alicia had found, and put them on the flatbed. "Did you guys see any packets of wood being sold inside? How about the oil?"
"Nope," Nick said, "didn't see any wood. Or oil. Or anything. We need some better hidden gas stations."
He heeded the advice and walked over to the cars, rummaged through their clothes selection, picked a couple of shirts, a pair of pants that seemed more or less his size, then tossed it all in the trunk.
"We won't find that on the interstate," Troy reasoned in response to Nick's statement.
Alicia followed in her brother's wake to take a look through the abandoned suitcases and heaps of clothing. Like the boys, she found a few items that would do – a pair of jeans, some tank tops, and a warm sweater. She'd secretly been hoping for some new boots as her current ones had a habit of chafing the back of her heel, but there were none. She paused a moment over a pretty little sundress, however. Obviously not something she could wear in this brutal new world, but it looked a lot like one of her favorite dresses from back home. She'd worn it the first time she and Matt…
She forced herself off memory lane, throwing the dress back onto the pile and returning to the jeep with the items that would actually be of use.
"How far can we make it with our current tank?" Alicia asked. "Shouldn't be more than two or three hours till the cabin, right?"
"We've got thirty miles left in the tank give or take." Troy didn't like those odds and definitely wasn't fond of the idea of abandoning the jeep if it were to come to that. It was sturdy and the closest thing at this very moment in time he could look at as a military vehicle. "I'll see if I can siphon some fuel from the cars."
He unsheathed his knife and headed around the side of the station building in search of a hosepipe, anything they might have used to rinse off the tarmac or wash their cars.
He returned a few minutes later empty-handed. "No luck. Anyone else find anything useful?"
Nick took a gulp of water, then handed him the bottle.
"No. We should get going. If there's any new station – we check. If not, we better get to that cabin and then look if any cars are in the parking lot. We still got out feet, so we'll do some trips."
He screwed the cap back on the bottle when Troy finished and tossed it on the backseat.
Oh, how Alicia missed Google Maps which could probably have told her how many gas stations were between their current location and the intended destination. The map Troy had found was useless in that regards. She folded it gently, anyway, and handed it to Nick, assuming he'd still take the seat up front.
She climbed into the back, helped herself to some water from her own bottle and finished it.
Troy gave the lot a final once-over, hopeful something would jump out at him and provide with the help he wanted, and then climbed in the car.
He wasn't fond of surrender.
They drove eighteen miles before the car started choking up black smoke and eventually ran dry, forcing Troy to pull over onto the side of the road.
"Fuck," he cursed, thumping the steering wheel with the flat of his hand. He toyed with the keys in the ignition, trying to see if the fuel gauge needle would jump.
It didn't even flicker.
They were still over sixty miles from the cabin.
He heaved a sigh, removed the keys from the ignition, and got out to stretch his legs, to see what lay beyond the trees that outlined the sides of the road like a barricade.
There were no homes, no farms or industrial buildings that he could make out or see in the near vicinity. They were quite literally in the middle of nowhere.
He opened the backdoor and rummaged around for his bag, taking out the few things he didn't feel was needed for this particular trip and he felt he could do without if they couldn't come back for the jeep.
Although that was a serious 'what if' scenario.
They would come back.
"Are you going to be able to walk?" he asked, peering at the two, knowing they'd been quite good otherwise, surprisingly so actually, but that a couple of miles with zero rest could take a strain on the body. "Or maybe you should stay with the car. Protect it."
Nick observed the car, pinching a cigarette between his lips and lighting it. He pondered their chances. They didn't look good.
"Well, the problem is, we piled too much stuff into that car, and now Troy here is gonna cry if we leave it. This is why I hate to collect stuff. Since we don't know about the cabin, we shouldn't discard the car. So maybe I should go find another gas station or a ride. It can't be too hard. Maybe we're up for a lucky break."
"Don't act like we don't need this stuff to survive," Troy chided. "Food, water, guns, security. I know you like to pretend none of that is a necessity and walk through life caked in shit but there are other options. Besides, you'll thank me and your sister when you have toilet paper to wipe your ass the next time you get the runs."
Nick smirked, took a drag, exhaled smoke, and reached into the backseat for the half-full bottle of water.
"You might wanna check in another direction. It's an Interstate, there should be cars."
What Alicia was hearing was that they were splitting up, and though she didn't particularly like it, she also trusted Nick to take care of himself. He had a habit of getting himself into trouble, but also the uncanny ability to get out of it.
"So I take it I stay?" she said, climbing out as well, hands on her hips as she threw a look at her surroundings.
"Just stay here, watch the car, get some rest and I'll be back before you can miss me," Troy said.
He glanced between the two as if to make it clear and to let them choose what do to with themselves, and headed to the back of the jeep to grab an empty container for fuel.
"So," he said once he'd gotten everything he needed. "What are you doin'?"
Nick stomped on the cigarette butt he had discarded and scoffed, amused and annoyed at the same time.
"I dunno what WE are doing, but I am going to scout the area. I'm not babysitting your car."
He put on the bloody jacket and closed the passenger door.
"We can't cover sixty miles to that cabin, but we can do some to find what we need."
He gave Troy a parting smile as he started away, then thought of something and looked back over his shoulder, stopping.
"You sure just one radio works? Seems like we could use those."
"Sure. I checked them," Troy said, fighting the urge to argue with him, to tell him that, of the three of them, he was the last person needed to be out in the open and exposed.
Nick was hurt – he had to act like it. If something happened he'd be of no use to anyone, and worse off – dead.
As much as Alicia enjoyed Nick giving Troy a hard time, she didn't want it if the cost was her brother's wellbeing. But Nick was stubborn, and trying to stop him from doing something when he'd set his mind to it would be useless. He'd always been that way. Even when they were kids.
"An hour!" she called in Nick's direction. "Be back or I do something stupid!"
Troy kept himself glued in place and turned away once Nick started walking again, to face Alicia.
"Was there anything distinct on the map that you saw to show what was out here? More roads deeper in, maybe?"
She considered Troy's question and rounded the car, leaning into the passenger seat to grab the map Nick had abandoned. Placing it on the hood, she unfolded it to make closer examinations.
"I don't recall. But Jake did tell me he used to stop for food at a truck stop a few hours before the cabin." There had been something about one of the waitresses there being 'insanely hot', and Jake's friends had always insisted they stop by whenever they were in the area. Alicia was sure Jake hadn't minded at all, but he'd kept that information to himself. "So there might be something up ahead."
Since the radios were no good, Nick kept on walking, cracking a smile at Alicia's threat. It was cute, but in reality, stupid wasn't her weapon of choice. Ever.
It wasn't such a great idea to be hiking with his chest problems, but he still tried to establish some pace that made the whole job easier. It wasn't too hot, and the sun was somewhat behind his back, so nature was helping. He took a sip of water after a while, then looked back, and didn't see the car, anymore. There was barely anything at all around, like he suddenly found himself on a planet where no humans ever lived.
After a mile or two, there was something on the horizon resembling a house. He picked up his pace some, but not to the extent of collapsing a few yards short of his target. It was a small gas station and a store with three infected in it. He took them down and refreshed his disguise. The store was almost empty. It was ridiculous. In the gas pumps, however, there seemed to be something left. Maybe a canister or two – if he had canisters.
Nick searched the place and found no gas canisters, but two empty water ones. They had to do. The two cars parked at the store were cleaned out same as the store.
He took the empty plastic containers out, went for the pumps, then stopped in his tracks. There was something to the side of the road ahead. At first, he thought it was a deer, but as he looked longer, he recognized a horse. He dropped the containers on the ground, and stared at the animal in confusion. It looked so damn lonely and scared. It watched him with its ears perked. Perhaps it had already learned that not all of what seemed human acted it, anymore. It wasn't running away, however, which gave Nick a silly idea that it hoped he wasn't one of those bad ones.
He glanced back at the two cars, pondered fueling one of them, pondered whether they could even start – there was no telling if their batteries worked. Then he went past the pumps and toward the prairie framing the Interstate. The horse jerked as if to run, but only made a few hurried steps back, still watching him, ears perked. Nick still looked like shit and smelled like someone who would attack. He wasn't sure the animal could see him all that well, but if he tried to approach, it would flee.
Indulging a weird hunch, Nick clicked his tongue once, twice. The horse's ears flicked, it shifted on its legs. He did again, slowly creeping toward it. It was scared, all right, and it fell a few steps back a few times, but eventually, Nick wiped his hand on his shirt where it was more or less clean of blood, and held it out. The horse pondered, then let him put his hand on its nose. He stroked, whispering 'It's okay', and it relaxed a little. It was a steed, and he seemed to be tired of fright.
The steed wore a halter on his head, which was lucky. Nick led him back to the gas station, surveying the area for a farmhouse or something where this horse might have come from. There was nothing but the shrubs under the sun. Having no choice, Nick risked leaving the stallion on the parking lot and went inside the store, looking back and expecting the horse to run. The stallion tried to follow Nick, which made Clark's chest contract with sympathy. The animal must be happy to see someone who didn't try to eat him. This new world was a bad place for a domesticated horse.
Nick searched the three bodies and pulled a belt from one of them. He slipped it through the halter, locked into a loop and put an arm through it, leading his new buddy with him to the pumps. He filled the plastic canisters, then shrugged off his jacket, binding the canisters to it by the sleeves. He hauled it onto the horse. The horse didn't seem to mind.
So they started their walk back.
Nick walked ahead of Troy, limping subtly as if he was continually compensating for some pain he refused to acknowledge, lost in his own world. Troy assumed that he'd drift off into the trees and hover in a space close enough to help his sister if anything was to go wrong, but he didn't.
He kept going.
After a few minutes of silent contemplation, Troy decided that it was stupid to be walking in the same direction—especially if they weren't together—and veered off the interstate into the thicket of trees.
For a time, it was nothing but him, nature, and a few dead.
He took care of them on principle, harboring the same logic that he used to in the past that they might make their way to Alicia, toward the car and stir trouble that she might not be inclined for or see coming.
Who knew if she was already taking care of her own?
He checked their pockets for any trinkets, and when he found none, he moved on. He'd been walking for an hour and a half when he came upon what he knew was a man-made pond meant to water cattle. The lazy man's trough.
He removed his bag, tossed it onto the grass out of the way of getting wet, and crouched beside it, splashing his face, cooling off as much as he could before returning to claim a bottle of water. Troy took a deep sip to silence the stirrings of hunger, tempted to strip and float for a while, aware that despite the touch of heat, there wasn't time for that and he had to keep walking.
There was only a couple of hours left of sunlight and if he didn't make it back in time, he didn't doubt that Alicia would abandon him. Nick he assumed would be hesitant at first if he made it back before Troy with fuel, but then he'd ultimately do what was best for her. She was his family. His blood. And that prioritized everything else. Troy got it, too, as his family had had the same kind of staple in the past. Like he did now. A clean transference.
Troy approached the small holding, studying the cattle grazing around the house as if this simple stretch of land was untouched by the ugliness of the outside world. Even the fencing was intact. At least if you discounted the dead that had been shredded in the barbed wire and sat within the loops like a bear caught in a trap. They were mangled, flesh hanging off their faces in strips, one's eye caught on one of the razors like skewered olive.
They were still moving. He drove his knife into their skulls.
He approached the gate, attempted to undo the intricate latch and found it to be locked from the inside. He studied the small house. It appeared abandoned, dead, and then a lick of silver appeared in the window, reflected by the sun before a bullet hit the post a couple inches from Troy's arm.
He ducked and dropped to the ground, crawling away as another shot rang out, quickly finding a place where he could take cover and arm himself with his handgun.
Alicia grabbed the rifle from the back of the jeep as Troy disappeared down the road, and swung the strap onto her shoulder, proceeding to close all the doors. If anyone were to come by and on the off-chance didn't shoot her on sight, they didn't need to advertise their supplies. Food and water could turn even the gentlest souls into beasts these days.
She returned to the hood of the car, eyeing the map, trying to compare the winding roads with the ones Jake had shown her on his map back at the ranch. This one appeared to be older, and she could have sworn Jake's version had more markers, more newly developed roads. Not that it mattered much now.
Every sound had her looking up, casting surveying looks up and down the road to ensure no vehicles were approaching, and that none of the walking dead snuck up on her. It was quiet, but she felt more nervous now than when she had been guarding her own supplies when she was alone. Because if she were to fail in her mission, it wouldn't just be her life affected. It could mean potential death for Nick and Troy, too.
Time passed painfully slow. Alicia changed into her 'new' jeans and tank top, packing her old clothes away in the hopes she might eventually be able to wash them.
When more than an hour had gone, she began to feel a slight sense of fear. She hadn't expected either of them to be back on the dot, but her mind still reeled with the various possibilities of scenarios that could have befallen the two. None of them pleasant. And how long would she allow herself to wait before she went in search of them? Two hours? More? She wasn't sure she'd be able to stand it for that long.
In the end, she got in on the driver's side, just because standing was making her feet ache more than they had to. She rested her head against the steering wheel until she saw something out of the corner of her eye. Movement. She turned to look and caught sight of her brother approaching… with a horse in tow.
What the hell?
Alicia hesitated all but a moment before she got out again, moving in front of the jeep to watch Nick with wide eyes.
"We are not killing a horse for food!"
It was the first horrific thought that came to mind.
Nick chortled, staring at Alicia with amused disbelief for a speechless moment.
"If you think it's why I brought him with me, I should be insulted, Lisha."
He displayed an exaggerated scowl and pulled the canisters bound by his jacket off the horse's back, wincing.
"We got some gas. And I couldn't drag it on me. The horse was lonely, so he tagged along."
Alicia moved forward to help Nick with his load, relief that he had found the fuel they needed temporarily overridden by the other surprise he had brought with him.
"Where did you find him? Is he hurt?"
"He seems fine," Nick replied, unscrewing the canister's cap, and lifted it to pour into the tank. "Scared shitless, but fine."
Alicia kept hold of the horse while Nick moved back to the car, stroking him carefully, almost reverently. She missed horses. Missed riding them, grooming them, even just seeing them.
"Poor thing. Had his whole world turned upside down."
"Must be from a farm or a ranch somewhere, or maybe a horseback riding base, but I didn't see anything like that around. He was just wandering aimlessly, scared of all that moves."
Nick put down the empty canister and reached for another.
"I hope we don't have to go search for Troy. How long has he been gone?"
"He left just after you did," she said absentmindedly, carefully undoing a tangle in the horse's mane and adding as an afterthought: "We should send the horse on his way before Troy comes back."
Nick smiled to himself, pouring the last of the gas in, then put the canister down and approached the horse. He undid the belt, pulled it from the halter on his muzzle, then patted his neck and leaned into him to push him away. The horse fell back a few steps, but then returned back closer to them like a loyal dog.
Nick spread his arms briefly as if saying There you go. "He won't agree with that."
"There's no guarantee Troy won't consider him our next meal. He's a survivalist farmer and a sociopath to boot. Did you hear the bunny story?"
Jake had told Alicia one night, and the thought of it still made her blood boil.
Troy stayed low to the ground and watched for movement from the small holding, expecting whoever it was to show face.
They never did.
Smart.
There was no way to tell who it was or how many. He checked the ammo on his handgun and seriously considered fighting it out. If they were holed up, it meant there was something to protect.
But what? If it was just Troy, his boys, he'd have suggested they stormed the palace and checked. He was with a different crew now, a different set of people that wouldn't appreciate that kind of sentiment and already said as much.
He cast a final glance at the place, and narrowly started away, being careful to guard his back. He hadn't seen anything else out there, and if he went any deeper, he wouldn't make it back in time. Troy decided to head back empty-handed.
Nick smirked grimly and took a gulp of water.
"Yeah, I have. But a bunny's not a horse. I'm not saying we should keep it, but... Well, I shouldn't have brought it, but I didn't wanna bother with another car. When he didn't run away from me, I went with it."
An idea came to him, making him look at her cunningly. He held the belt out to her.
"If you feel okay for it, you two can go see if Troy's coming. I know you want to."
A smile bloomed on her face, subtle at first, then cracked in a full-blown grin. He knew her well.
Alicia shifted the rifle to lay across her back, taking the belt from Nick to fasten it on the horse's bridle. She led the horse off the road so they could walk along the grassy field instead of the hard asphalt. It would be better for his hooves.
The animal didn't seem to be starving despite the fact he obviously no longer had anyone to take care of him. There was plenty of grass and weeds this time of year, and he clearly had not had much trouble finding water, either. Perhaps there were some streams around here? Ponds?
"Give me a leg up?"
Nick went after her and helped her up. A wave of pain traveled through him, stealing his breath for a long moment.
Seeing Alicia's face light up as she sat on the horse made him smile. She looked like a kid who hadn't received any Christmas gifts for years and suddenly got one.
"Just please be careful," he pleaded. "There was no saddle where I found him."
Alicia looked at the horse's neck before her, stroking it. He didn't seem to mind a rider, and that was good.
"What do I do? Leave him in the forest or bring him back here?" She didn't like either of the options, but it wasn't as if they had many others. They couldn't take him with.
"Good luck leaving him in the forest, but I don't think you can outrun him. Just find Troy if you can and tell him we should go asap."
She nodded and was about to urge the horse onwards, but hesitated.
"Please don't get in any trouble while I'm gone," she begged, eyeing her big brother with some doubt. "Arm yourself at least?"
She knew he probably wouldn't, but she had to try anyway. She squeezed the horse's sides gently with her legs, and he started walking. It felt weird at first. It had been quite some time since she was last on a horse. But she soon fell back into familiar habits, and before they reached the line of trees she had seen Troy venture off into earlier, they were off in a trot.
She swept branches aside as the horse slowed and maneuvered his way into the forest, careful to not let them catch on her rifle as they passed. It was easier inside, more space to roam and fewer pine needles.
Troy had been gone for quite some time and she didn't plan on going as deep as he probably had. If she knew herself well enough, that would only lead to her losing her way. But Alicia kept a wary eye out for him while enjoying the tranquility of the forest and the gentle rise and fall of the horse's shoulders beneath her.
Being lost or even close to it wasn't the norm for Troy, and nor was it now, so when after forty minutes of walking the immediate sound of rustling hit him, he took to hiding. Suspecting that whoever had been firing at him from the house might have maneuvered around him. The shooter did know the terrain better than Troy, and the dead had an individual shuffle that was predominantly clumsy.
This was different. Steady and acquainted.
A horse.
Troy removed the handgun from where he'd tucked it against his side and pressed his back against a large tree, using it as cover, listening to see how many people there might be before emerging behind them. Although he was familiar with her front, Troy was even more so with her back – despite the change in clothes.
"Alicia?" he asked, loud enough to be heard above the animal's hoofs, the gun pointed at her back for the sole purpose of confirmation and threat if he happened to be wrong.
His voice startled her. Alicia pulled on the horse's makeshift reins to stop him and looked over her shoulder to see Troy on the path behind her, gun raised.
She urged the horse to turn, and he followed her directions without hesitation.
"One and only," she said, somewhat uneased by his gun and choosing not to move closer until he lowered it. "You okay?"
Troy lowered the gun soon after she'd turned to face him and snapped the safety back on. "Just paranoid. There's a small holding a few miles from here and its owner isn't the welcoming type."
His warning had her survey their surroundings with more caution than before, but they seemed to be alone. On the other hand, she hadn't noticed Troy until he sprung out on her, either. She needed to be more careful in the future.
He returned the gun to the side of his hip and walked toward her, extending a hand toward the animal she was riding, slowly approaching him as not to spook him.
"Where'd you find a horse?"
"Nick found him. Used him to haul the fuel back to the car. Should be more than enough to make it the cabin now."
She hesitated a moment before preparing to get off the horse's back.
"Need a break from the walking?"
She didn't truly care much about his comfort, per se, but she wasn't stupid. Right now Troy was the strongest of their group, and though she hated to admit it, she and Nick had a better chance at survival with him by their side than alone.
Troy touched a hand to the horse's muzzle, stilling once he drew back, hesitant, letting him come forth again. It took the animal a moment, but he eventually did.
"I'm okay," Troy stated, surprised by her offer but appreciative. "Everything okay at the car or were you just concerned something had happened to me?"
Alicia stilled again when he declined her offer before finally urging the horse forth again. He started walking beside them.
"Nick was worried," she said. "I wanted a ride."
Troy smiled slightly, appeased that he was worried. When was the last time someone in the Otto family had verbalized that to his face? Troy thought, at times Jeremiah and Jake prayed he wouldn't come back so that their problems or those assumed difficulties that he brought could be buried.
"Well, don't let me keep you. It's not every day we get to indulge," he gestured ahead, subtly suggesting that she run back or go at a speed that wasn't an idle trot. "Go for it. I'll meet you back at the car."
Alicia considered that a moment, searching her instincts for whether or not she had some obligation to stay with him. It didn't feel like she did.
"Okay," she said, taking off at a light trot. She never let the steed go into a gallop, however, a voice in the back of her mind chiding her for even riding the horse in the first place. As soon as they left, he'd be completely unprotected again and needed all the strength and energy he could get. With that in mind, she slid off his back just before reaching the edge of the forest, saving herself the trouble of combating the upper branches. She led him out, and once they were at the field and she could see the Jeep in the distance, she undid Nick's belt from the halter, allowing the horse to go on his way.
By the time she made it back to Nick, the animal was still close on her heel. It was going to be tough leaving him.
Nick was leaning against the car, smoking, when Alicia appeared in the distance. She was walking, and it appeared she had the belt dangling in her hand. The horse was behind her, keeping up like a good dog. It made him laugh, but there was also pity for the poor animal. Maybe he shouldn't have approached it, but there was no way to tell if that was worse or better. He just did what he did.
"I take it you didn't find Troy?" he called when she was in the hearing distance.
"He's coming," she called back, waiting until they were close before speaking further. "He shouldn't be long."
She pulled the rifle-strap over her head and moved to put the gun back in Troy's arsenal.
Nick was smoking like clean air offended him, and though Alicia didn't comment, it got her thinking. Was he that worried about Troy? Or was it to soothe something else? Hunger? Pain? All of the above? She doubted she'd get a sincere answer if she were to ask. Despite Nick having promised to keep her in the loop from now on, she knew her brother. He would try and shield her from the details he didn't deem important enough to worry her.
Troy reached the jeep twenty minutes later, finishing off his water bottle as he approached the two, studying the horse who'd been loitering close by as if he belonged.
"There's no possible way we can keep him."
Nick chuckled at his comment and stomped on the cigarette butt.
"Well, he seems to be willing to be kept," he said, smirking, and walked around for the passenger's door. "He just doesn't wanna be alone, anymore. He's scared. And it's not fair in the slightest. The world sucks these days, more so for those who don't understand."
Troy's return shifted Alicia's attention back on the horse. He was grazing peacefully on the side of the road, and though she was tempted to move in for one last cuddle, she didn't. It'd only make things harder for both of them.
"It does suck," she agreed somberly and made for the backseat.
Another time or maybe even in the past Troy'd have found as much amusement in what the two siblings made of the horse's antics, but not now. He couldn't. If anything, the creature would inevitably die. Be it from starvation or because a walker overpowered it. Troy could kill it and save it from future misery, but he doubted either of his friends would care for that. He shrugged off the bag and tossed it in the back, putting the empty container he'd been carrying with him in its place on the flatbed.
"You've already added the fuel?" he asked as he approached the driver's side.
"Yeah. There was a bit more left in the pump, but I only found two canisters and one horse, so we gotta stop by that next gas station and get the rest."
Nick looked at the horse, feeling guilty. As if there was any more guilt he would want to carry around.
"What wouldn't I give for one of those horse transporters. Damn shame. He'll die on his own. Especially after reinstalling some trust in humans. He'll take an infected for one."
Alicia briefly followed Nick's gaze, chewing on her bottom lip. "Even if we could take him with us there'd come a time when we'd be forced to leave him behind," she said before closing the door on her side. Saying the truth didn't make any of this feel any better, though.
Troy watched the siblings with mixed feelings. They debated the horse's existence as if it were an option, as if they had a choice in the matter. It took a lot to keep a horse fed and watered, and they could barely keep themselves going – even if they did have a bit more than they originally did. They were only just starting out, and the horse might be the incentive needed to get Nick to agree to build a fortress.
"How far is the gas station from here?"
Nick considered. "About thirty-forty minutes walk. Why? It's right on our way, can't miss it."
"I'll take the horse," Troy said. "That's where you found him, right? His home might be around there. He'll stand a better chance."
Troy showing uncharacteristic signs of kindness? Alicia was intrigued. And suspicious.
He turned back to the horse before Nick could argue or debate, moving to reacquaint himself with the friendly creature. Once he was sure the animal was approachable, Troy used the wheel of the jeep as a ladder and eased himself onto his back, fingers lacing through the mane, heels tapping at the flanks to nudge him into motion ahead of them.
"There was nothing around there," Nick said, and started around the car for the driver's door. "I think he came from some other place, which could be anywhere. Even Jake's cabin – if there was a horseback riding base for tourists. Was there?"
Alicia climbed into the front passenger seat and propped her feet up on the dashboard, watching the horse and Troy's retreating forms. "No idea. Jake didn't mention anything about it, nor did the map."
Though maps rarely did, unless they were made special for tourist attractions.
"We'll find out the usual way, then," Nick said, starting the Jeep, and closed the door. They pulled from the curb and accelerated after Troy. Nick didn't keep the high speed, however, and let the car ride slower in case he had missed anything worthy on either side of the Interstate.
They caught up with Otto in fifteen minutes and parked at one of the pumps.
Troy didn't look back as he pulled ahead, giving another gentle kick to the horse's side, spurring him faster until he went from trot to full-fledged gallop.
The ride wasn't smooth but was fun, nonetheless, and by the time Troy found the gas station and got off the horse it felt as though his balls had been crushed, and trying to walk was a bit of an issue.
"Jesus," he cursed, pressing a hand to his groin, massaging, convinced that if he was to keep that up he'd have to find a saddle for the thing or something else that he could use to make it.
"Fill it up?" Nick asked Alicia before stepping out of the car. He took the key with him as he did and pushed it into Troy's hand when he walked past him. "Gotta check the store again in case I missed something. I coulda – didn't have enough hands or horses, anyway."
"'Kay." She got out and flipped the lid to the tank open.
Troy slid his hand from his crotch and took the car keys as Nick coaxed them into his open hand, following him with his eyes as he headed for the store again.
One look at Troy shuffling beside the horse told Alicia he was in some awkward pain, and she tried not to smile at that, busying herself with the pump to make sure they got what remained of the fuel here. It was enough to fill the tank. She wasn't sure how much more the pump contained, so she briefly abandoned it to fetch one of the petrol cans in the back of the car.
It didn't yield any fantastic results, not even filling a fourth of the can, but she screwed the cap back on and packed it anyway.
The three infected Nick had killed were still there. He checked them again and took another's belt. There was nothing significant at the cash register. Just a box of bubble gum, some mint sweets, a couple of cigarettes blocks and useless money.
Troy headed to the car to dump the weapons out of the container onto the Jeep's floor, and filled it with water from one of the large bottles Nick had found earlier.
Not a lot, but enough.
He carried it over to the horse and set it down before him, moving to prop himself against the bumper. The horse didn't go to it at once, cautious, and then eventually surrendered, suckling at it hungrily.
Once more Alicia found herself surprised by Troy's kind treatment of the animal, and for some reason, it shook her more than she would have liked. It was easier to hate someone when they were evil through and through, when their every action was villainous. It became increasingly harder to hold onto the disgust she had felt towards this man yesterday. And that, in turn, pissed her off. She didn't want to let go of her anger. Troy did not deserve her forgiveness nor trust.
Nick dropped his meager findings in the trunk and observed them. "So what, we done here?"
Alicia tore her gaze off the man and horse and shut the back door to the Jeep, turning to her brother. "Pumps are empty, so I guess so."
When the horse had had his fill, Troy popped the hood on the jeep, picked up the container and emptied what he could of what remained into the radiator. Without a funnel, the task wasn't easy, but he managed not to waste too much. He flipped it over in a feeble attempt to dry it out, and slipped the weapons back into it before replacing it on its designated space on the cooler.
"What are we doing with our shadow?" he asked, assuming they'd have thought on the subject a bit longer and decided whether or not they planned to let him go or if Troy should simply shoot him and save him the misery of being eaten alive.
Nick didn't know what to tell him. He looked at the horse, pondering. The steed would meet his doom sooner or later, and it would be worse than if they put him down. But Nick knew if he had to do or watch it done, something in him would die. He wasn't prepared for such. He had no parts of his remaining soul to spare.
"Well, either we bind him to the car by whatever rope we can find anywhere or we leave him here, which would get him killed in a horrible way, or one of us rides him to Jake's cabin. Which won't be me."
Alicia braced one hand on the side of the car, squinting slightly against the sunlight. She didn't like any of their options, but the kindest one to the horse itself would be to take him with, preferably by riding there.
"What will we do with him when we get to the cabin?" she asked. "And what will we do with him when we leave?"
Presumably, they would leave at some point. She didn't foresee them holing up at Jake's cabin for years to come. And just as she worried what would happen to the horse if they left it behind, she worried about how much more pain her heart could take when he would inevitably die in front of them, either by their hand or the dead's.
She lowered her head slightly, thoughtful.
"If anyone's going to ride him for that distance it should be me," she said eventually, murmuring as an afterthought: "Seeing as I am the only one here not capable of getting testicular torsion."
She'd only heard about such a case once before during her volunteer days at the hospital, and one quick peek around the curtain as she had fetched the patient something to drink had been more than enough for her. She didn't need to see that again.
Troy's hand inadvertently went to his nut sack, rubbing, renewing the ache that had temporarily gone dormant. If they could they'd shrivel up and die at the thought of getting back on that horse without a saddle, and as much as he enjoyed it – he wasn't prepared to abuse them any more than he already had.
"Let's just get to the cabin first before we start worrying about what to do with him when we leave. We don't know what's going on out there. What we do know is ahead of us and on the road. You're going to have to be careful. He isn't a tank. Take it easy, take it slow and if anything looks even remotely like it's dangerous – we'll stop and take care of it. Got it?"
All he needed was for her to fall on the tarmac and her head to be cracked open like a melon. That would be a whole new drama and medical issue Troy doubted mouth-to-mouth would be able to solve.
He removed the keys from his pocket and climbed into the driver's seat, rolling down the window and turning on the ignition, waiting for them to prepare and join.
"He's right, Alicia," Nick said, "you don't play hero and don't ride into any dead. Keep off the road, we'll drive behind you to see you at all times. If there's any danger, we'll take care of it. And your priority's to stay alive and well. And careful with the groundhogs' holes. Horses break their legs, too." He looked at Troy. "I'll drive, you just… keep your legs up. Keep the pressure off, cowboy. But help her on the horse first."
Alicia pursed her lips, tried her best not to narrow her eyes at the two men who suddenly acted as if she didn't know the first thing about horses or this new world in general. Typical older sibling behavior. A comment she kept to herself as she reluctantly allowed Troy to give her a leg up and onto the horse.
As soon as Otto handed him the key, he slipped behind the wheel and started the car. They waited for Alicia to start out, and followed, adjusting the speed as she did to keep her ahead of them and in the view at all times.
Like before, the animal didn't seem to mind Alicia riding him, and didn't hesitate to follow her instructions. They started slowly until they could get off the asphalt and onto the road-adjacent fields. She urged the steed into a gallop, and for a while, that was their pace.
When he eventually slowed on his own accord, she let him do so, allowing him to walk for the next few minutes before he willingly set off in a trot again.
All the while, she could see the jeep out of the corner of her vision, and despite her earlier annoyance, felt safe in the knowledge her brother and Troy were keeping an eye out for her.
Troy made himself at home in the passenger seat and made a point of lifting his feet up onto the dashboard, offering his friend a brief smirk before focusing on the road ahead. They had fuel and a couple hours to kill before they reached their destination. Keeping the sound manageable, he turned on the radio and rolled through the channels, seeking music or a broadcast as he'd done when they were in Mexico.
There was nothing, not even anyone calling for help.
He guessed the panic was over and everyone was either fighting or surviving.
"How's the pain?" Troy asked, flicking off the radio, focusing on Nick as he steadily drove.
Nick shrugged. "Manageable. There's nothing you can do with bruised ribs but wait it out." He gave Troy a cunning smirk. "How's yours?"
"My balls, you mean? I'll probably never be able to procreate. But fine otherwise. Nothing time won't heal."
"Procreation's not on top of the list these days, so no pressure."
Nick watched Alicia for a while, thinking about the horse. He was almost regretting baiting it, but knew he couldn't very well walk away from an animal in distress. It was the hardest thing to do. Like walking away from a scared child.
"This horse's gonna help us search the area for more fuel once we're at Jake's."
"Is he?" Toy studied his friend, a lazy smile playing upon his lips with interest. "Before we get into that, don't you think we should consider finding it food first? We've got water covered for now."
"A horse will always find some grass," Nick reasoned. "He's not starved, he's been doing okay. And we're not heading for the desert, so he'll be fine there, too. Or you disagree, farm boy?"
"I am," Troy mused, offering up a smile since Nick had to know that considering he'd called Otto 'farm boy'. Troy did more than just kill the dead, and had been doing for a long time before the world even began to crumble at the seams. "The dead contaminate the earth. It ruins the soil and anything that grows in it. Who knows what that shit is doing to his system? If we can we should at least find him an alternative to mix it up with." Troy gave a slight shrug, fixing his eyes on the road ahead where she rode, unimpeded and at an almost graceful pace.
"I think you're panicking too early," Nick chortled. "It's not the first apocalypse for our Earth, nor the last. It regulates itself and all things that live on it. So have a little faith in your planet. Besides, people don't turn into nuclear waste when they die. The soil will be fine. Even better. The circle of life and death is what keeps it spinning."
Troy studied Nick with interest. He knew Clark was poetic of sorts, but Troy had never seen him as one of those naturalist hippies that believed faith would get them through the worst of times.
"It's not panic, it's called being prepared. We don't know what they turn into." A large portion of his scientific murders. All they knew for sure was that every one of them would eventually become one of those things until the next living person killed them for a final time or nature wiped them out. "We've seen what a bite can do, ingesting it is the same principle."
Troy'd never had the opportunity to test it on animals or to even see if they could get sick. But if this was, in fact, a genetic strain and created by nature — in holy they should trust — it would only be a matter of time.
"It's not about what it is, but what we can do about it," Nick said. "It's not a dog or a cat, and beyond that, I'm not an expert on how to tend to a horse. He'll have to do what he did before, find food as he did before. We can try to protect him from the dead, but if I see any farm on our way, I'd hand him over. Your farm couldn't be the last one in the world. I hope we find another one that could take a horse in."
"So, that's the plan, we adopt him until we can hand him over to someone else with a bit of space and the ability to look after him?" Troy thought back to the smallholding and the person who'd shot at him. There were some cattle there, but overall the space would have been ideal. Maybe later he could take the steed there.
"It's not a solid plan. Just an idea. I don't see how we can keep him in the long run, but shooting him is not an option. He doesn't deserve this shit. He went through as much and tried to survive. It's unfair to take it from him. I don't want Alicia to have it stuck in her brain forever. She has enough shit in there after your horde stunt. She hasn't even started to heal it."
"Lucky you found him then. Horses are therapeutic." Unsure if that was still true, only remembering what documentaries Troy'd seen before television and YouTube crashed stated. "You think she'll forgive me for that?"
Nick considered sugarcoating, then thought against it. "I don't think she can forgive something like that. But she can learn to live with it."
"Is that what you're doing? Living with it? Or do you in part feel responsible for it?" Not that Troy saw it that way. The youngest Otto blamed the entire takeover on Madison and Madison alone.
"I was there with you, Troy. I don't take the horde on me - that's all on you. But Jake's death is partially my fault. I lied for you to everybody, and then I did it again to Daniel's face, which means I shared your crime. I don't forgive you because it's not my place to forgive anything like that. I know why you did it, and I know how it came to it. And it's not fully your fault. It's the outcome of many faults. So you and I have to live with it because we couldn't change shit."
He said it as if he expected Troy to feel some sort of guilt or onus for what he'd done, when in reality, Troy didn't live with anything other than the loss of his home. And Jake.
"And what would you say if I was to tell you I had no regrets about it?"
He already knew Troy'd do it all again if it came down to it and he had to relive history.
Nick wasn't surprised. He heard it before – his mother was going to kill Troy for it.
Nick turned to regard him. "What do you want me to say, Troy? Call you a murderer? A psychopath? Swing a hammer at you?"
"That's what your mother tried to do, what your sister would have done if given the chance and what Jake was ready to do before you interfered. All I'm trying to figure out is why — with your views of good and bad — you're lenient with me. Is it that easy to bury it or do you have another angle?"
Nick heaved a painful sigh, grimacing subtly. The questions weren't misplaced. But Nick wasn't sure he himself had the answers. He tried to find them for Alicia and felt like he failed to. There was nothing set in stone, nothing solid and dense among the ideas of why he behaved the way he did with Troy.
"I killed a few people, but it never came easy," he said. "I'm not a killer. Taking lives sickens me, it's killing me in more ways than those I kill. There's no burying it, forgetting it, smoothening it anyhow to make it look better. There's no right excuse to kill anyone. And as much as I hated you when we came to the ranch, I still wouldn't kill you. I don't believe I have the right or place to judge you for things you've done and sentence you to death. I don't wanna be it. Because then there's no point. There's no point in survival when you're dead inside."
Troy nodded. It was a fair answer and confirmed what he knew about Nick, what he understood even more after eavesdropping on their conversation, but it didn't say why Nick continued to want to be with him – to travel with him. Nick didn't have to play judge or jury and the ranch was ancient history.
Was it all as simply explained as friendship? Could it be?
It didn't seem likely from what Troy knew, and yet there was proof in the pudding.
"Your sister seems to be a fairly decent rider. Did she do much of it before the world went to hell?"
"She took lessons as a kid. She always loved riding. What about you? Only-with-saddle kind of guy, are you?"
"I've never needed to be any other guy. Until today. It's not as easy or pleasant as it looks in the movies." Troy reached down and patted his crotch, inspecting the healing progress on the damage. It wasn't as tender as it was before. "What about you? How'd you get into it?"
"Well, that girl out there is my sister, so it was a package deal. I got a couple of lessons, the rest the horses taught me by darting into a gallop when I didn't expect or by dropping me down. I'm an amateur."
"Then it's a good thing she's out there instead of you or we'd be scraping you off the tarmac at some point. Lucky you made it back to the jeep in one piece." Troy smiled slightly before turning somber. "We need to find it a saddle or we're going to craft one."
"First of all, we gotta get to the cabin," Nick reasoned, darting an amused glance at him. "And no, I'm not the kind of amateur that falls off every time. I'm rather self-taught. Some rules they try to teach you about riding aren't all that comfortable. The officially correct way to sit in the saddle is not all that comfortable, either. And the length the stirrups should be in a sports saddle is not comfortable. Too high, which helps you fall off rather than stay on. I wasn't all into those lessons, but Alicia didn't mind. She was ready to endure anything just to have her riding time. And I didn't really give a damn."
Troy arched a brow in response to the knowledge he shared about the saddle and its comfort and nodded slowly, lazily, absorbing all of it before falling silent to keep an eye on the road.
As the ride went on, Alicia started to appreciate the periods of time when the horse decided to walk instead of running full throttle. Because with every firm bounce her head throbbed with pain and her injured side didn't fare much better. Not that she would admit to that, should anyone ask.
Alicia did spot what looked like a few infected shuffling about, but they were all the way across the opposite end of the field, and with the way they moved, they'd never make it to them in time. She still made sure Troy and Nick caught her gestures so they were aware of the situation, however.
Every now and then she was forced up onto the road to avoid trekking through patches of forest, and during one of these times, she had Troy throw her the jacket so she could cover her shoulders and arms from the persisting sun and its damaging rays.
In another thirty minutes, they picked a turn from the Interstate after consulting the maps. All was well for another ten minutes, and then, as they took a turn, there was a small crowd of dead traveling toward them. Nick stopped, killed the engine, and the horde spotted them, started to walk faster.
The horse realized what was coming and couldn't stay still. Nick glanced between the horde and his sister, hoping she knew how to keep the horse from rearing up.
The horse backtracked a little, unable to keep from pacing nervously, making Alicia tighten her grip on his mane and whispering words meant to soothe and reassure. Her gaze flicked to the two in the car, silently begging them to get to the infected before they could get to the horse.
