Outbreak
16. The Journey
"Are we there yet?"
Sharpay fought the urge to scream.
How many times had she heard that question now? It was hers and Henry's second day on the road since leaving their home behind in search of a survivor's camp in Vegas. So far, all had gone without a hitch but due to some navigation issues they were way behind on schedule. They had run out of food a few hours ago, finishing off the last of their honey sandwiches and, since then, Sharpay had not been able to shake the sense of dread that hung about her. She wasn't sure anymore how far they were from Nevada or even if there would be anything waiting for them when they got there. What if this had all been a mistake? They should have stayed where they were. Where they knew. She hadn't just put her own life on the line, a small child depended on the success of her risky decision. And if it failed, she knew she'd never recover from the regret.
"Are we there?" Henry asked again, stretching out the final word into a long, whiny moan.
Sharpay looked at him with an annoyed frown. "Stop it, Henry." She said seriously. There was too much on her mind for her to deal with his tedious childishness. He usually knew her limits, and was generally well behaved and mature, but he was a child. He had his moments. And today was just going to be one of those days.
"I just wanna know if we're there." He pouted, gazing out of the window at the vast, never-ending desert that surrounded them. "I'm bored." And, with that, he clambered forward from the backseat into the passenger seat beside Sharpay. He stared at her for a moment but, when she didn't return his gaze, he sighed with exaggerated exasperation and turned his attention elsewhere. "And I'm hungry."
Swinging his feet and fidgeting with the empty wrappers that littered the dashboard, Henry began to whistle and hum a tuneless song. He was unaware of how irritating it was until Sharpay could hold an angry outburst back no longer.
"Would you just stop that!" She snapped. She couldn't help it. Although she knew he didn't mean to get on her nerves, there were so many little things grating at her mind that she couldn't control herself. Her brother was dead and, as much as she wanted to hate and blame Taylor and Gabriella, she couldn't help but empathise. She was empathising with her twin's killer, and she couldn't understand it. She couldn't understand anything that was going on in her head. And then there was the kid she had to take care of, there was no certainty where their future was concerned. The rest of her life was a complete unpredictable mystery and with so much responsibility on her shoulders, so suddenly--… She snapped.
Henry whimpered and looked at her with eyes so wide and shiny that Sharpay felt she might cry at any second if she didn't see him smile. "I'm sorry, honey." She soothed, taking one hand off the steering wheel to give him a light pat on the head. Her heart jumped with repentance as he shied away from her touch. "It's just-…" She tried to explain but couldn't put the thoughts that she barely understood into a way that a five–year-old would be able to grasp. "I-…" Stammering, she tried to keep her attention on him whilst simultaneously stopping the car from veering out of the only empty lane on the highway.
Henry's bottom lip quivered. He was looking at Sharpay with such pain in his young eyes and a questioning expression on his face. As if he didn't know her. A tear balanced precariously on the lashes of his lower eyelid. One more blink and it would spill down his cheek.
"Please don't-." Sharpay began, not sure if she'd be able to cope with seeing the child cry and not be set off herself. She scolded herself for letting this happen. Obviously, she had her issues to deal with, she'd had her fair share of trouble, but there was no need to make the boy suffer. He depended on her. And she had thrown that in his face. She wondered if she even deserved his forgiveness for that.
Sniffing the liquid that was running from his nose into his mouth, Henry continued to stare at Sharpay. "I wanna go home." He told her sadly. He didn't bother to wipe the tears that were flowing from both of his eyes.
"I know, baby." Sharpay whispered, gulping down the lump in her throat. She glanced at the road for a second before laying a hand on one of Henry's cheeks. "It's okay." She lied, attempting to dab at his tears.
"No!" Henry tore away from her. He pushed his back against the passenger side door so that he was far enough from Sharpay to be just out of reach.
This was the first time Sharpay had ever seen him angry. His chubby cheeks were going red and his lips were squeezed together into a tight scowl. His nostrils flared and eyebrows were bent into a hard frown.
"I want my mommy!" He yelled, his tiny hands forming fists.
Sharpay tried to calm him, but she'd never had to deal with a temperamental child. It made her appreciate all times her parents had dealt with her tantrums. "It's okay, Hershey." She said again, unsure of what else she could possibly do. "I'm here." Although she knew that wasn't enough.
"You're not my mommy!" Henry shrieked exactly what she'd been thinking. He tucked his knees to his chest and began to stomp his socked feet on the seat beneath him. "I want my mommy!" He wrapped his arms around himself, stopped stomping and finally tore his blameful gaze from Sharpay to bury his face in his knees. His back shook as he sobbed quietly with the occasional babbled 'I miss her' and sniff.
A teardrop hit Sharpay's lap and she realised she was crying. She'd always known Henry was upset by his mother's death- who wouldn't be- but she'd also presumed that he was too young to fully understand. Too young to experience real grief, to hurt like she did. Clearly, she'd been wrong. He'd been suffering for so long. Without her support. Slowly and silently falling apart without a mother to put him back together again.
"I miss her too." Sharpay admitted, though her voice cracked from emotional strain. "I miss her too."
Henry emerged from where his head had been deeply lodged into his knees and shot Sharpay the most hateful glare she'd ever seen. "She wasn't your mommy!" He bit accusingly with a how-dare-you tone in his voice. "She got sad when you came. You made her go away."
Unsure if she could take much more before suffering a mental-breakdown, Sharpay tried to stop him. "Henry." She tried to keep her voice as hard as possible but it came out as little more than a hurt whisper.
"You did it!" He continued, pointing a trembling finger at Sharpay.
It hurt her, but Sharpay understood. His young mind needed a reason for his mother to have been gone. He needed someone to blame. And deep down, he blamed himself. For not being a good enough son. For not making her want to stay. Maybe if he didn't argue with her when she told him to tidy his room. Or maybe if he'd eaten all his vegetables. Maybe then she wouldn't have wanted to get away from him. All he could do to partially relieve himself of such unbearable thoughts, to temporarily push them to the back of his mind, was find another person to blame. A scapegoat. Sharpay was his scapegoat.
And then it dawned on Sharpay. Taylor and Gabriella were her scapegoats. She couldn't quite bring herself to hate them, because she knew she was only blaming them as an outlet of her own pent up regret. If she hadn't sent Ryan to get her punch, he wouldn't have ended up how he did. If she'd just respected him more, paid more attention to him when he said that going to the prom wasn't such a great idea because of that mystery illness, he would never have died. Taylor and Gabriella had done what they had to do to survive. Just like how Sharpay taking Henry to Vegas, although dangerous, was necessary for their futures. Even if the boy didn't understand it yet.
"It's your fault!"
"Henry, please." She tried to calm him. She just needed to concentrate for a minute. But with his shrill voice and his tears and the snivelling and the blame, her mind was in overload. The road was the last thing in her thoughts.
Henry shook his head from left to right, denying her unspoken request to be heard. "You took my mommy from me!" He screamed. "I hate you!!"
The car jolted to a violent stop as the front bumper collided with something. There was a deafening crash sound as the metal front of their SUV caved partially into itself from the sheer force of the collision. Sharpay's upper-body lurched forward, the seatbelt not restraining her head from bashing into the steering wheel. The airbag did not deploy. Quick with reflexes, Henry braced himself against the door of the car with both arms out to clasp at the dashboard and grip the chair he sat on. He screamed for no more than a second. Then, silence.
Sharpay groaned as she opened her eyes. Her head felt like it weighed a ton as she slowly lifted it from where it lay on the steering wheel. Her hand went to her temple where she could already feel a bruise forming. A throb repeated itself, sending the same pulses of pain through her brain over and over again. She looked to her left where Henry gazed back at her, mouth agape with pure horror. His entire body was tense as he panted to get his breath back.
"You okay, little man?" She asked him, her voice hoarse. He nodded unsteadily and seemed to relax a little but couldn't quite shake the panic from his bones. The collision had sent flashbacks through his memory of the night he had first met Sharpay. Memories that his undeveloped mind had tried hard to repress.
Confident that Henry would soon be back to normal, Sharpay turned her attention to the road ahead. It didn't take much searching to find out what they'd crashed into. "What is this…?" She whispered to herself, gazing out of the partially shattered windscreen at the breathtaking view ahead of her.
The road was gone. In its place was nothing more than a sea of abandoned cars which stretched as far as she could see in a messy, crammed line. Dirty and motionless, the vehicles had evidently been there for a very long time. Some had their doors open. Some were even tipped onto their sides. Many were touching each other. They created an impermeable barrier from the rest of the road. Vegas was starting to seem a very long way away.
Sharpay needed a closer look. She needed to see if there was any way around it without having to suffer the unreliable terrain of off-roading. Giving Henry a reassuring wink, she opened her door and stepped out of the car. Her aching head swam for a moment and she had to hold the car to stop herself from swaying. Henry followed her lead and hopped out of his side of the car.
Although it was an obvious setback in their trip, the break was exactly what they needed. Sharpay allowed Henry to explore, stretch his legs and clear his thoughts. Meanwhile, she could come with a plan of action.
"Don't go too far!" She called after him as he bounded excitedly through the maze of dead cars. Funny how at a young age, ones emotions can change so suddenly.
Hoisting herself onto the bonnet of a flashy, red sports car and laying back on its windscreen, Sharpay let herself catch the sun, bathing in its rays for the first time in a long time. She tucked her hands behind her head, shut her eyes and began to think.
They couldn't turn back now. But to get to Vegas, they'd either have to walk- which was unthinkable- or take a treacherous shortcut across the desert. One advantage was that, this far out into the middle of nowhere, there was little danger of being found by a zombie. Little danger. But no certainty.
Sharpay sat up, suddenly wanting to be with Henry. She didn't like the thought of him wandering alone. She'd let her guard down. She shouldn't have let him go off like that. Who knew what lurked in this vehicular graveyard. Sliding off the car, she peered around in search of him. A window glinted not far from where she stood as the door of a car opened and reflected the sun. Sharpay went to it, calling Henry's name.
Almost there in an instant, she found herself at a dead end at a line of cars squeezed tightly together, cutting her path. As she climbed over the bonnets, her gaze fell onto the car to her right and she stopped mid-crawl at what she saw. Inside the car sat a family of four. A mother, a father and their two young-ish daughters. All dead.
Their eyes were open as they stared ahead, looking untouched. Just frozen. There were no marks on them. No sign of foul play. Their bodies sat stiffly upright. The man even had his hands gripping the steering wheel. But their eyes were vacant, their faces pale. How long had they been there? For surely, in such heat, decomposition would have to take place very quickly. Their car showed signs of being there for months. But the people were pristine. As if they had died mere moments before. As if a touch of their skin would find it still warm.
Sharpay didn't want to ponder the mystery. With new found urgency, she turned back to the task at hand and continued her quest to find Henry. It didn't take long.
Apparently, he had seen the bodies too. He stood with his back pressed up against a van opposite the family car, frozen with terror as he gazed at the open backdoor. He was trembling so forcefully that Sharpay wondered how he was still standing. Poor kid. It was about time they got back to their SUV.
"Henry?" She slowly began to approach him. He did not look at her, not tearing his sight from whatever had gripped his attention behind the open door of the car. Sharpay couldn't see it from her angle, but she was certain it was probably the blindly gazing eyes of one of the girls.
Taking another step towards him, Sharpay spoke again. "Hen-…" She could have sworn, amidst his trembling, he was lightly shaking his head. Almost like he didn't want her to come to him. "Henry, what are you doing?" She tried and failed to hide the fear in her tone.
She was close enough now to hear his faint whimpering. But that wasn't all she heard. Snarling. A low, deep, continuous growl. It was coming from behind the open backdoor of the family car.
It sounded too animal to be a zombie. But Sharpay knew that all animals had died a long time ago. "What is it, Hen'?" She whispered.
He gulped before replying. "A dog…" His voice was so unnervingly brittle with fear that Sharpay felt her heart stop momentarily. A dog. Impossible. But from the sound of it, becoming increasingly louder, an unhappy dog at that.
Sharpay took another step forward. She could almost reach him. Just a few more steps. But then what? Any sudden movements and the dog could pounce. And what if it was infected? The virus was rabies after all. It had originated in animals.
"I'm scared." Henry spoke almost inaudibly. Sweat trickled down his brow. He chewed at his bottom lip and refused to blink as his eyes stayed locked with the ferociously glaring animal in front of him.
Edging closer still, Sharpay kept her voice as calm and soothing as she could. "I know, honey." She said with another step forward. Her hand reached out and she placed it on Henry's shoulder. "Just get behind me." She told him, gently and gradually edging him behind her. He yelped quietly, unable to hold it back due to his heightening fear. "You're okay." Sharpay assured him.
She was fully in front of him now, her body was his human shield. If the dog wanted him, it would have to get through her. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that.
"Now," She continued gently. "When I say so, I want you to run." She prayed this would go to plan. "D'you hear me?" Henry said nothing, his voice trapped behind layers of fright. "When I tell you, you run and don't look back."
Sharpay stared into the hateful eyes of the creature she faced. The dog was slim, its ribs close to poking through its flesh. Its eyes were manic and teeth sharp and blood-stained. It lay on the floor of the car by the feet of the dead girls, in a position that said ready-to-pounce. Its ragged breathing was getting faster. It was getting angrier. And it was only a matter of time before--.
"Go!" Sharpay yelled, turning and giving Henry a shove in the direction of their car. "Run!"
They sprinted. And not far behind them was the grunting and pitter-patter of the dogs equally as speedy feet in pursuit. Sharpay had Henry's hand in hers as she practically dragged him at her side. The dog was right on their tails. His clawed paws would occasionally catch the heels of Sharpay's inappropriate footwear.
And there it was. Their shiny SUV. Calling them. Cheering them on. Telling them that safety was only a few steps away. The doors were still open. It was ready.
Sharpay pulled on Henry's arm so that he was in front of her. He was wheezing as his little legs tried to keep going. And in a final burst of desperation, Sharpay lifted him from under the armpits and carried him right to the passenger door. She dropped him into the seat. Without a word, he ducked into the back. The door shut behind him.
But when he looked up, Sharpay was not there.
Clambering desperately to the nearest window, he pressed his face and hands to the glass and peered out in search of her.
Face-down on the scorching tarmac, Sharpay took the briefest of moments to scold herself for not learning the first time that heels were not good when being chased. Like in her run-in with the Savage at the hospital, she had lost her footing and toppled straight down like a load of bricks. The dog was on her in a second.
She should have been relieved, but was in too much pain to notice, that he didn't use his teeth at first. No, to start, he clawed at the flesh of her ankle with his dirty paws, instantly breaking through the skin. It felt to Sharpay as if her foot was being gnawed off and, unable to see what was going on, she could only imagine that that was what was happening.
Each scratch was like a million knife blades working across her ankle. And the pain was not restricted to just that area. Her entire leg felt it. What hurt the most was that the dog was just toying with her. He was scratching at her like a cat would to a scratching post. Enjoying the suffering of his catch in preparation for the meal she would soon become.
Sharpay's vision was already beginning to blur. Her mind was shutting down to shield her from the agony. And she was grateful for the impending unconsciousness. She just wanted it to be over. She could feel her own blood trickling between her toes. The sooner she was dead, she thought, the better.
But then she heard it. She heard him. Henry. Screaming from inside the car. Banging on the window with his podgy fists. And she knew she couldn't give up. If she died here, he'd be left with no-one. Her death would result in his. And couldn't have that. She couldn't have him watch her die.
Not to mention that this dog was really pissing her off. No-one ruins a perfect pair of Carvela heels and gets away with it.
Rolling onto her back, Sharpay pulled her legs away from the doomed animal. Her right foot was bare, the remains of her priceless shoe discarded on the floor and in pieces between the dogs teeth. Her other shoe, however was intact. And its shiny metal heel glimmered as if indicating another use. A deadlier use. And not just a case of killer fashion.
The dog seemed momentarily fazed by its meals unexpected movement and only watched with curiosity as Sharpay removed her shoe. He decided it was about time to eat as Sharpay raised the stiletto above her head. He realised it was too late as the heel came soaring down towards him, through his thin skull and into his brain.
Henry finally allowed himself to breathe. He sank back into the car seat, leaving a smear of breath and palm sweat behind on the window, and waited in silence for Sharpay. With her eyes down, Sharpay opened the door and crawled into the seat beside Henry. She said nothing to him as she lay across the cushions resting her head by his knees and drawing her feet up by the window.
"You're bleeding!" Henry shrieked as she caught sight of Sharpay's shredded calf and ankle. From her knee down, the skin was completely doused in her own blood. It was unlike anything that the young child had ever seen but, as much as it terrified him, he couldn't quite look away.
Sharpay lifted her arm from where it draped across her eyes and glanced up at Henry. "I'm okay," she lied. Her leg was an explosion of agony. She felt sick. And weak. She could feel herself shaking and her heart was racing. At any moment, she thought, she might lose consciousness. "Don't worry." She added, seeing the obvious doubt in Henry's eyes. She didn't want to cause him any more grief than he'd already suffered over the last few months. "It's nothing."
Henry bit his lip. His small, trembling hands slowly made their way towards Sharpay's face before resting on the top of her head. He began to gently and clumsily stroke her hair, weaving the blonde locks between his podgy fingers and trying to silently reassure himself that Sharpay was telling the truth.
But she was all pale. Like one of the zombies. Her eyes were shut but it didn't look like she was sleeping. It looked like she would never wake up.
"I didn't mean it." Henry spluttered, trying not to choke on his impending tears.
Sharpay didn't open her eyes. Her eyelids were too heavy and sore. But his random statement confused her already jumbled mind and she had to ask; "What?"
"I don't hate you." His timid, shaken voice replied. He swept Sharpay's fringe away from her sweaty brow to better reveal her pallid face. "I didn't mean-."
"I know, Hen'." Sharpay sighed. She barely heard her own voice and wondered if she'd spoken at all. In the back of her mind, she thought she could hear Henry still talking, but it seemed so distant that she wondered if it was just a figure of her imagination.
Henry was sobbing. His tears were falling from his eyes onto Sharpay's skin, blending in with the salt water of her sweat. She didn't flinch as one of the droplets dropped onto her bottom lip and ran into her mouth. Her lack of response to Henry's pleas for reply only made the child cry harder.
He took her by the shoulders and shook her, bawling and screaming her name. Her eyes stayed shut and her body heavy and limp. But just as Henry gave up trying to jolt her awake, something happened to give him a tiny ounce of hope. A small reassurance that she wasn't dead. Not yet.
Sharpay's chapped lips parted ever so slightly and a whisper that was almost impossible to hear escaped her. "I love you…" She breathed with difficulty. "Little bro'."
A/N: That was… intense. Sorry guys! She's NOT DEAD though. I assure you of that.
Thanks a lot to chaylorXtraylorlover101, bex-sharpay tisdale-evans, sd freek, 2pinkstar and 7blackberry, general wildcat, ILuvZacEfron, MaxRideRox, ChaylorTwilightQueen10, NanoLuvsYouAll, mzwendy85 and HisDelilah for your encouraging reviews!
Lot's of people were wondering when Gabriella and Taylor would find out about Troy's predicatment. Well, here's your answer;
Coming Up; Of all the things she had prepared herself for, all the things she had expected, this scenario had never entered her mind. Everything else had a solution. Everything else was reversible. But not this. Of all the things, not this. As the news sunk in, Gabriella's world began to fall apart in small chunks.
Thanks ever so much for reading!
xX M Xx
