Emmett, Edward, and I found ourselves nestled once again inside my car. Edward, miraculously free from his handcuffs, sat seemibly content with me on his lap. Unable to quell my curiosity, I couldn't resist a playful inquiry into the art of his escape.
"might you share the artistry behind your vanishing act from those cuffs? Are we in the presence of a master escape artist?"
Edward, quick-witted as ever, responded with a sly smile, "Well, Isabella, it's never a bad idea to have a few tricks up one's sleeve, even in dire circumstances. Escaping cuffs is a rather basic skill in my repertoire."
Emmett, the light-hearted giant, couldn't help but chuckle at our banter. Yet, as the minutes drifted by, a more somber tone settled in. The road ahead was filling with an increasing number of vehicles, and the ominous thought of being trapped in Seattle loomed over us like a dark cloud.
Emmett, begining to prouve himself as our pragmatic strategist, finally decided to vocalize the concerns that were undoubtedly swirling through all our heads. He leaned in a little closer, a mischievous glint in his eye momentarily betraying his usually lighthearted demeanor. "Isabella," he began, adopting a mock-serious tone, "while I'm always up for a thrilling adventure, I must admit my curiosity is piqued. Could you kindly offer us a bit more insight into the intricacies of this mysterious cabin you've got up your sleeve? You see," he continued with a hint of theatrical hesitation, "I've begun to entertain the notion that our chosen sanctuary might not be quite as 'sanctuarious' as we'd hoped. »
I cleared my throat and said, "The cabin is located in the Olympic National Park. It's a remote area, and I chose it precisely because of its isolation. But," I added with a hint of irony, "I can't guarantee we won't run into a few unwelcome 'neighbors' there as well. And it'll definitely be too small for everyone."
Emmett continued, his tone playful, "Well, if I may be frank," he quirked an eyebrow, "we don't need the house of our dreams right now. I'm more concerned about how to get there. I've developed a teensy-weensy apprehension about embarking on a ferry journey to our destination, which would certainly be the shortest route. It's not that I'm sea-sick," he grinned, "but more like... well, there's always the entertaining possibility that some 'zombified' passengers might join us for an impromptu cruise. Quite the party, wouldn't you say? And there's not a lot of space to escape to…the water is a bit cold at this time of year."
Amid the growing congestion on the road, my concerns intensified. The convoy of cars trailing us only added to the unease settling in my chest. As Emmett drove on, I couldn't shake off the gnawing thought that the cabin in the Olympic National Park might not offer a sustainable solution for the group. But with no other solutions readily available I nodded, acknowledging Emmett's valid concerns. "You're absolutely right, Emmett," I replied with a sigh. "As much as I'd prefer a shortcut, it seems we don't have much of a choice. We'll have to take the longer route, circumventing the water, and endure the inevitable traffic. »
Edward interjected with a quip, "You know, we could have been in Emmett's official vehicle, complete with a flashy rooftop emergency beacon. Priority traffic and breezy navigation would've been at our disposal…."
I concurred with Edward, acknowledging the merit of his point. Then, out of the blue, an idea sparked by Edward's comment on prioritized vehicles compelled me to insist that Emmett pull over. His groans of reluctance were met with unwavering determination on my part, for I believed this idea might just be the key to extricating us from our current predicament.
"Emmett," I urged with unwavering determination, "please, pull-over at that ambulance up ahead. It appears abandoned. I believe we should consider taking possession of it."
Edward couldn't help but interject with a touch of humor, "Well, Isabella, this certainly wasn't on my list of 'fun things to do in Seattle,' but I suppose a joyride in an ambulance could be quite the experience."
Emmett, ever the one to add levity to tense situations, grumbled, "Of all the rides at the amusement park, you had to pick the one with the siren, didn't you?"
But as the car eased toward the abandoned ambulance, a more serious tone settled in. I continued, "Either the paramedics will return, or they're nearby, and if they're anything like the infected individuals we've encountered, they could be a threat, we need to be carefull. But an ambulance not only provides a means to navigate through the city speedily but also comes with valuable medical equipment, such as a defibrillator and a portable respirator."
Emmett, now resigned to the inevitable stop, carefully pulled up alongside the ambulance. As he shut off the engine, he couldn't help but mutter, "Well, folks, we've officially graduated from a road trip to grand theft ambulance. Who would've thought?"
Edward, with a smirk, added, "And here I thought we'd be picking up souvenirs at the Space Needle gift shop on my way to prison this morning."
With a mixture of amusement and trepidation, we began to inspect our new, unexpected mode of transportation, pondering the unforeseen turns our escape plan had taken.
I noticed Jasper's van and the three sisters' car gradually coming to a halt behind my vehicle. A few other cars, whose occupants I couldn't identify, also joined the impromptu roadside congregation.
Jasper honked his horn and popped his head out of the van, signaling with animated gestures that clearly asked, "What's going on?"
I turned to Emmett and conveyed my decision with a tone of firmness, " I'm not comfortable leaving my car behind. It contains all my possessions and research. If it's alright with you, I'd prefer that you, being an officer of the law, take the wheel of the ambulance to lead the way."
Emmett couldn't resist injecting a bit of humor, "So, Doc, should I retrieve my 'prisoner' and throw him in the back, or are you okay with him riding shotgun?" Edward, slightly irked at being referred to in such a manner, raised an eyebrow at Emmett's comment.
For some reason I couldn't quite pinpoint, I found myself responding instinctively, "I'd rather not be alone."
In that moment, as I uttered the words, "I'd rather not be alone," I couldn't help but sense a twinge of vulnerability I rarely allowed myself to acknowledge. As an autistic individual, navigating the labyrinth of emotions had always been a complex task for me. Recognizing and understanding my feelings, especially those of attraction, remained a challenge.
Emmett and Edward, in their own unique ways, had become significant figures in my life during these short but trying times. Emmett, with his humor and lightheartedness, had provided a sense of stability and comfort. Edward, on the other hand, with his sharp intellect and unwavering presence, had been a constant source of curiosity.
But beneath the surface, something more elusive was unfolding, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. It was as if an invisible force had been at play, subtly shaping our interactions. My instinctual response, wanting not to be alone, felt like a small step into uncharted territory.
Was it simply the fear of isolation driving my words, or was there a deeper connection forming, one that defied the boundaries of friendship? These questions swirled in my mind like leaves caught in a gentle breeze, and I couldn't help but wonder if the enigmatic path I was treading would eventually reveal its secrets.
With a mixture of determination and caution, Emmett approached the vehicle, his weapon held at the ready. Slowly and deliberately, he circled the ambulance, his gaze sharp and watchful, every step calculated.
His gloved hand reached for the rear door, fingers grasping the handle with a gentleness that contradicted his imposing figure. With a careful push, he swung open the door, revealing the interior. His scrutiny was thorough, his eyes scanning for any signs of unexpected company, any hidden threat lurking within.
Silence seemed to stretch as Emmett's inspection went on. A sudden shatter of glass from a nearby building shattered the stillness, and Emmett's attention shot upwards, his instincts honed. He gestured urgently, a swift pointing motion that conveyed his intention to ascend into the ambulance and start on the road.
As Emmett embarked on his new ride, I moved into the driver's seat of my car, a sense of purpose guiding my actions. Edward couldn't resist a quip even in the midst of the tension making me blush. "Well, Isabella, your absence on my lap is going to leave quite the void, I must say."
With the unmistakable roar of the engine, the ambulance rumbled to life. Emmett had evidently found the keys he needed.
With that, our peculiar convoy began to take shape, with Emmett in the driver's seat of the commandeered ambulance, and Edward, who was none too pleased about it, in the passenger seat. I remained in my own car, my precious research and belongings in tow, ready to follow the unconventional procession that was now our lifeline through the perilous streets of Seattle.
As time passed, the details of our journey through Seattle began to blur in my mind. It became a disjointed series of images and events, as if the city itself had conspired to erase the memories of our passage.
We had navigated the perilous streets, inching past abandoned cars and encountering small pockets of infected individuals. Through SeaTac, where we witnessed the haunting crash of a Boeing plane, and onward to Tacoma, our peculiar convoy had persisted. The commandeered ambulance, with its strategically flashing lights and medical insignia, played a pivotal role in securing safe passage through most encounters.
It was in the dead of night when we finally found ourselves at a desolate gas station. The once-bustling city now lay in eerie silence around us. Our journey had brought us here, a place I couldn't have pinpointed on a map without the presence of my companions. But here we were, huddled together, our unusual assembly a testament to the bonds formed in the crucible of survival.
Gathered together for the first time as a united group, it was palpable that many members of our convoy harbored a cascade of questions. Despite having followed us, their expressions bore the weight of uncertainty, mirroring the doubts that had taken root within us all. The incredulity in their eyes spoke volumes, a silent plea for understanding in a world suddenly turned upside down.
The desolate gas station, a haven of flickering fluorescent lights that cast eerie shadows across the cracked concrete a place, once a mundane pit stop on the road to nowhere in particular, had transformed into a temporary sanctuary, albeit an uneasy one.
It was a scene that mirrored the overarching uncertainty that had settled upon us. The gas station's rusty pumps stood like silent sentinels, relics of a world now overshadowed by chaos and fear. Patches of graffiti adorned the weathered walls, graffiti that seemed to tell stories of a world that once thrived with life and color but now lay in a state of disarray.
As the hushed inquiries hung in the air, the collective gaze of our companions gravitated towards Emmett, a reassuring figure still donned in his sturdy police uniform. It was as if they sought solace in his familiar authority, their trust placed in the emblem he represented.
The questions that echoed most persistently among the hushed murmurs were the fundamental ones that enveloped us all in a shroud of bewilderment: "What is happening to the world?" and "Where are we heading?"
As the questions bubbled up like a collective mantra, the hum of generators provided a steady background noise, punctuated by the occasional creaking of abandoned shopping carts. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed and flickered, painting a scene that straddled the boundary between normality and impending crisis.
Feeling Emmett's hesitation, I stepped in. I realized that we couldn't afford to linger at the gas station. We were parked on the side of the road, and the constant flow of people fleeing the cities could pose a risk. While we didn't have all the answers, we knew one thing for sure – a dangerous epidemic loomed over us.
"We can't stay here for long," I asserted, my voice steady and authoritative. "We're vulnerable on the roadside, and there's a high probability of encountering more people in distress. While we don't have all the answers, we're all aware of the imminent danger posed by this epidemic. Our priority right now should be finding a shelter to regroup and discuss our next steps."
Emmett, sensing my unspoken questions and concerns, took the floor. In his characteristic authoritative yet humorous manner, he laid out the plan.
"Alright, folks," he began, with a confident grin, "let's get those gas tanks topped up. If anyone's up for a scavenger hunt for extra fuel containers, raise your hand. We're aiming to stockpile as much gasoline as possible. It's also a good idea to rotate drivers to keep us moving efficiently."
He winked and continued, "By the way, Isabella, Edward, and I have decided to head for the Olympic National Park. If anyone wants to join us, you're more than welcome. But remember, your choice is your own, and it's not without its risks."
As Emmett laid out the plan for our group, his eyes briefly met mine, a subtle exchange of suspicion passing between us. He had his own set of questions, ones he believed I might hold answers to regarding the current crisis. After all, he still didn't fully understand why I had sought him out at work that day, and he suspected I had more information about the unfolding situation than I had shared thus far.
Perhaps it was a symptom of the fear that gripped us all, but strangely, the task of refueling and gathering as many supplies as possible went by swiftly and efficiently. Everyone seemed to operate on autopilot, working together seamlessly, and soon enough, we regrouped at our vehicles.
Rosalie had volunteered to drive the ambulance, allowing Emmett some much-needed rest. Lily and Esme remained in their vehicle. After assessing Eric's injury, I handed the wheel over to Edward, along with a lengthy list of instructions, and the same pattern repeated across the other vehicles.
Curiously, nearly everyone decided to follow us toward our chosen destination.