Chapter 40: The Highway

Though jets could be heard roaring overhead, it was impossible to see them. Perhaps they were flying too high up? The group looked in silence toward the flashing behind the hills, which Zoey knew was being caused by bombs. Holy shit, stuff was blowing up!

"Can we chalk this up as a good sign?" Louis ventured. "It means that the army in the area is still kicking. Maybe it's the same platoon from Riverside."

Bill did not answer – though it was a good sign that the military was still active in Pennsylvania, he was hardly excited at the prospect of walking into a battlefield. And if the US military was deploying the damn air force, then it must mean that there was a serious infestation problem in the area.

"There's gotta be a city over there," Francis said. "No way they'd be usin' their precious bombs to waste Infected out in the middle of nowhere." He pointed down the road. "And this highway looks like it'll bring us straight to it."

The conversation was again interrupted by a low rumbling, but this time it was coming from a turboprop transport plane to the south, flying directly toward the ominous flashing in the distance. Upon closer inspection, Bill identified it as a C-130 Hercules.

"A plane!" Louis exclaimed.

"Don't bother yelling," Bill said. "They're too far away to see us." The whole situation still looked sour to him, but their other prospects involved starving out in the middle of nowhere. "Let's follow this highway and see where it goes. But if things start to look fishy, we bug the hell out."

The group walked for an hour along the broken highway, skirting cars that were crashed, or had been abandoned there for whatever reason. There was also the occasional human corpse scattered around. The Infected had been out here at some point.

Bill led the way along the road with the pistol, while Francis was wielding the crowbar that had been used to sear his flesh recently. That was pretty much calling dibs, right? Louis had managed to scavenge a discarded tyre-iron lying on the road, which made him feel much less naked out here.

"There's a road sign," Zoey called, pointing ahead.

The team surged ahead, eager to get some idea of where they were, and where they were headed. The sign plainly stated:

NEWBURG

12.5 MILES

"Newburg!" Zoey exclaimed. "I remember coming here to visit my aunt when I was younger. The city was pretty crappy and ugly."

"Do you think she got out of the city in time?" Louis asked gingerly, noticing yet another emaciated and pale body nearby.

"She died a few years ago… Louis, what are you doing?"

The others looked to see him kneeling down next to the body and picking up a small flip-knife lying next to it. "Eyes of a hawk," he joked, handing the knife to Zoey.

"Thanks." She seriously doubted she would be able to do much damage to an infected person with the tiny blade if it came to it, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

"That cargo plane we saw earlier must have been headed for Newburg," Francis said. "Working plane means working airport – I say we head there."

Bill nodded. It all made sense – if the city of Newburg had not yet lost its fight against the infection, there could be other survivors there.

The group marched onward for another hour as the sun beat down over the highway. There were very few Common Infected lurking near cars, and they were quickly taken care of – courtesy of Francis' crowbar or Louis' tyre-iron, in an effort to conserve ammunition for Bill's pistol. No more planes or activity were seen, and he was not sure what to make of the situation.

Zoey shouldered the team's only bag; a Hello Kitty backpack they had recently found inside a car, after emptying out an assortment of crayons and colouring books from it. Thankfully, they had not found the body a little girl nearby, and so Zoey took some cold comfort in the fact that the previous owner of the bag might still be alive.

She had been tempted to milk her watery near-death experience that morning and make one of the others to wear the girly purple backpack, but changed her mind.

Nobody likes a smartass, she told herself.

As the team pushed on, Francis' mood grew increasingly sour in direct proportion to his hunger. No one had eaten since they had been on board the fishing vessel of those two people who would remain unnamed.

After ten more minutes, he saw a rest-stop off to the side of the road. "Think we should stop there for a bit?" he asked.

Bill frowned as he surveyed the scene in front of him. There were a number of dead bodies strewn around the area, some of which were badly decayed. "I don't like it."

"It wouldn't hurt to check it out," Louis quipped. "There might be food in there. God knows, we need some after those Slater assholes stole all of ours."

After a moment of quiet deliberation, Bill took point, holding the pistol out in front of him and approaching the door slowly. It was a ramshackle old building – the rotting wooden shutters had been ripped clear in favour of corrugated iron sheets, nailed haphazardly over all the windows. The others followed closely behind, brandishing their various melee weapons. The grizzled old man scowled deeply as he caught a horrible stench that lingered in the air. As he came closer to the building, he could see that the doorway had been ripped off its hinges. A hastily-assembled barricade of shelves blocked the way just inside.

I've got a bad feeling about this.

The smell only worsened as they approached the doorway. Despite the sunlight, it was very dark inside the store, due to the iron sheets nailed across the windows preventing much light from getting in. Bill carefully pushed the barricade blocking the entrance aside, and then held the pistol and flashlight out in front of him as he stood in the doorway. The dark outlines of shelves could be seen throughout the store, and he noticed quite a lot of dark blood congealed all over the floor and walls. Some of it was even sprayed on the ceiling.

"It's a goddamn abattoir in here," he said over his shoulder, allowing the others to follow him inside. He flicked the light-switch but nothing happened. Power's out.

"But where are the bodies?" Louis pointed out. He crinkled his nose in disgust – the smell was overpowering in here, and it was not wafting in from the bodies outside. Somewhere inside the building, there were more rotting corpses.

The war veteran cast a wary look around. "Louis, you and I will check the place out – make sure there are no hostiles inside. Zoey, you and Francis keep guard out front; make sure nothing can sneak in behind us."

The young woman kept her reservations to herself. She flipped open her newly-found little knife as she and Francis left the store to keep watch outside.

"Stay frosty," Bill said, pointing the pistol forward and motioning for Louis to follow him further into the dark store.

The younger man held the tyre-iron high up with both hands, ready to swing down at a moment's notice. The darkness unnerved him, not to mention the aftermath of the goddamn bloodbath they had walked into. Sweet Jesus, what had happened in here?

His attention was momentarily diverted when something crunched underfoot. He looked down and saw pretzels lying all over the floor. Well, finding an unspoiled bag would be an opportunity he would certainly not turn down. By the scarce light shining in through the door, he quickly searched the nearby shelves and found two bags.

As he eagerly reached out to pick them up, he heard footsteps behind him. "Hey, look what I found – "

His words froze in his throat when he found himself staring at a dark figure. It was too dark and murky in the store to make out the person properly, but he could immediately tell that it was NOT Bill. A shrill scream split the air as he was scratched across the face.

"Oh, SHIT!" he cried, cringing from the sharp stab of pain.

He grappled with the infected woman, throwing her back into the nearby shelves and sending its contents scattering across the floor. She shrieked angrily and rose to attack again, but Louis swung the tyre-iron, shattering her skull.

The sounds of quickly-approaching footsteps drew his attention next, and he was soon met with the blinding flash of a flashlight, along with the barrel of a pistol.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph, Louis, I nearly put one between your eyes!" Bill's voice barked.

"Where were you man?" he shot back angrily. "I almost had my face ripped off!"

"Where was I? I ain't the one who wandered off – you were supposed to stay with me – "

Two more sets of footsteps could be heard, and the silhouetted figures of Zoey and Francis could be made out thereafter.

"What the hell happened?" he grunted, his crowbar raised.

Louis wordlessly pointed out the dark outline of the fresh corpse to the others as he struggled to catch his breath.

The biker chuckled dryly. "You always had a way with the women."

"Fuck you, man, I almost died!"

"Fuck you, Louis, I was just havin' a laugh. Maybe you should lighten up a bit."

"Hey, guys!" Zoey spoke up in an effort to ease some of the tension. "What if there are more Infected inside?"

Everyone fell silent to that ironic statement, and cautiously waited. They allowed themselves to relax after several minutes, deducing that if there were any more Common Infected lurking somewhere in the darkness, they would have been drawn to all the shouting by now.

Bill angled the flashlight, knelt down and searched the body, earning him a grimace from Zoey.

"Ugh, don't touch her."

He ignored her and pulled a wallet from the dead woman's pocket, studying the driver's licence for a moment before flipping it shut. "Well, that explains a few things."

"What?"

The war veteran's tone was sorrowful as he cast his gaze toward the far end of the store. "I found another body back there." He looked down at the infected woman. "It belongs to her younger brother."

The pieces slowly fell into place, and no one spoke for a while after that as the probable series of events played out in their minds. Bill cast a sympathetic look at the blood sprayed all over the ceiling all around them – blood that had belonged to a man no older than nineteen. When he and his sister had barricaded themselves inside the rest-stop, neither of them had realised that they were setting the scene for a grisly murder.

"Jesus…" Zoey breathed.

No one chose to say anything more on the subject, instead choosing to find what food they could and piling it all into her backpack – two packets of pretzels, and several cans of peaches. Francis even procured two full litre-sized bottles of water.

"We could take turns carrying the backpack," he said thoughtfully, casting an eye over at Zoey.

She realised that she must have looked surprised, because he shrugged awkwardly and went back to looking around. Was he embarrassed that he was being thoughtful?

"New toothbrushes and toothpaste!" Louis said excitedly from behind some shelves. "The place is messed up, but there's a lot of stuff left."

"Groovy," Zoey, giving him a high-five as he shoved them in the backpack.

She even found a new hairbrush (hell yes!) and a small camping saucepan. Not only would it be extremely useful for cooking on the go, but she remembered Bill mentioning something about sterilising the tweezers. She found him outside, having found a small stockpile of lighters and cigarettes behind the front counter, and was in the middle of smoking one.

"I think you needed something like this?" she said, handing the saucepan over to him.

"Good find, kid. That'll definitely be useful." He scratched his head. "First, I need some water and dishwashing detergent to soak the tweezers, then they'll need to be scrubbed with a spare toothbrush, and then I'll need to boil them in water for a minute or two."

"Good thing we're in a convenience store. There shouldn't be a problem finding all that stuff." She turned grimly to head back into the dark store. Even though she was doing this to help Louis, she didn't want to spend any more time inside the horrible little building than was necessary.

However, she stopped when she felt Bill's hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry. I got this."

She felt slightly embarrassed, but was secretly glad not to have to go back inside. The little store had a dark vibe about it. She undid her ponytail and used the brush to restore some order to her hair as she kept watch outside. Ten minutes later, the others emerged from the rest-stop, and Bill used a newspaper to light a small fire for boiling water. As he set about sterilising the tweezers and tending to Louis' arm, Francis came over to Zoey.

"We lucked out a bit in there," she said as she tied her hair back up into a ponytail.

"I'll count us lucky when we get our asses to Newburg for an airlift rescue," he replied, offering her a half-full can of peaches.

The sky slowly began to darken as evening approached, which served to further highlight an ominous orange glow in the distance.

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

It's been quite some time since I last updated, which I apologise for. Things have been busy in the last few weeks, but it's not fair to leave you waiting this long for a new chapter either.

Also, congratulations to fantasmala for the 200th review…

Holy geez, 200 reviews? Wow, I never expected to come this far, nor have this many readers. I truly hope you have all been enjoying reading this story as much as I have been writing it. Your support is what has motivated me enough to continue writing. Thank you again.