Zombie Games: Road Kill Part 16

He ignored her and watched the zombies creep closer.

"Justice!" she yelled. "They're coming! You have no chance surviving that many of them! Seriously!"

Still, he did not respond, nor did he make any move to follow her.

"They're glorious, aren't they?" smiled Travis, with a satisfied grin.

Kylie turned to him in disbelief. "Glorious? What?"

"My soldiers. They're almost perfect, actually."

Believing that Travis had gone completely mad, Kylie tried one more time to pull Justice towards the truck, but he wouldn't move.

"Come on!" hollered Allie, opening the semi door. "If he's not joining us, he'll have to take care of himself!"

"But-."

"Kylie! Look, he's not coming but you certainly have to! You can't fight those things!"

"Justice!" sobbed Kylie. "Get into the truck!"

"Let him be," said Travis, pulling her away. "He will not be persuaded."

Kylie backed away and then quickly got into the truck with Allie.

Allie stared down at the three men incredulously. "What are you doing?" she screamed, through the window. "They're going to kill you all!"

"Justice!" moaned Kylie, tears running down her cheek. "What's wrong with you?"

The three men ignored the girls and watched as the zombies moved closer, making their familiar guttural noises. When they were less than twenty feet away, however, the zombies stopped moving and everything became silent.

Dead silent.

"Good!" hollered Travis, after a few seconds. Then he walked back over the semi and climbed onto the hood of the truck until he was standing and facing the crowd. He raised his hands and smiled down at the horror that was watching him with interest. "Yes, indeed, this is very good."

Chapter Eighteen.

Ca.s.sie Nora finally took out her dad's CD and we listened to it as we re-started our journey back to Minnesota. She sat in the front, staring out the window while Henry drove, his hands clutching the steeringwheel so tightly that I think he was worried the heavy metal music would somehow shake him off. He was a trooper, however, and didn't make any wise-cracks although I was sure the music was driving him crazy. When the last song ended, Henry removed the CD and handed it back to Nora.

"What did you think?" she asked him, trying to bite back a smile.

He cleared his throat. "Well, it was loud," he said.

She chuckled. "Yeah, I know. Not your type of music."

"Well, now, I never said I didn't like it. Fact is, I'm pretty hip about a lot of things."

Nora and I both burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?" he asked, his eye twinkling.

"Hip?" I chuckled, still laughing at the old term. "Oh, come on Henry, wasn't it just yesterday that you were complaining about the horrible music being made these days?"

"I will have you know that just because I'm seventy-five years old doesn't mean my mind isn't open to change or new ideas, Wild."

"Now Henry," I said, "I thought you were eighty-something?"

He scowled. "Never a.s.sume anything. Didn't I teach you that?" Henry reached into his pocket and pulled out his tin of chew. "Besides, eighty is the new seventy, Wild. Haven't you heard?"

"Oh, of course."

"So you liked the CD?" asked Nora.

He shoved a wad of chew into his mouth. "No."

"What did you think?" she asked, turning to look back at me.

"He's very talented," I said, although thrash metal wasn't really my type of music either.

She turned back around. "He's more talented at making music than being a father," she said, softly.

Nora had told me once that her grandfather had died when her father had been very young, and they'd been very close. His death had almost destroyed the eight-year old boy at the time.

"Maybe it had something to do with his dad dying so young. You said it messed him up pretty bad," I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.

She stiffened up.

"Sorry," I said, removing my hand.

"It's okay," she said, turning back around. "I'm just kind of tense right now."

"I understand," I said. We were all pretty stressed out and on the edge.

"So, Nora, where do you think we might find your father?" asked Henry, opening up his window.

"We should check my grandmother's house," she said. "I left him a note a few weeks ago. Said I'd try making it back there and that he should leave me a message if he made it."

Henry spit out his wad of chew. "Sounds like a good plan. Wild, what about your grandparents?"

"We need to drive out to their house, see if they are there."

"You haven't spoken to them since this mess started?" he asked.

"No. We tried calling them but they never answered their cell phone. My dad had told me they'd gotten the flu shot this year and I actually think he was afraid to search for them. If they would have been zombies..."

Henry nodded. "I know, he wouldn't have been able to shoot them. Sometimes it's better to not know."

"So, why are we searching for them if they had the flu shot?" asked Nora.

"Well, Allie and I both survived getting bitten by zombies. They might be immune to the virus as well."

"What are you going to do if we find them and they're not who you think they are anymore?" asked Henry.

My grandparents were kind and loving people. There was one thing I knew for certain- they'd rather die than hurt another living soul.

I sighed. "Lay them to rest."

A couple hours later, we entered Minnesota and my heart began to race.

We were so close.

"Where should we go first?" asked Henry.

"Nora's grandmother's house," I said, watching the rain drops on the windshield. Since the trip had been her idea, it was only right.

"You sure?" she asked.

"Yep. Let's go find your dad before we lose him again."

She nodded. "Thanks, Wild."

"Don't thank me. This entire road-trip was your idea and I should be thanking you, especially if we find my grandparents alive."

"If they're alive, we'll find them," said Nora. "We won't stop looking for them, either."

I smiled.

"You guys want to listen to my dad's CD again?" asked Nora.

"No!" both Henry and I answered at the same time.

She chuckled. "You guys are wimps," she said, playing with the dials. When she pushed the FM b.u.t.ton by accident, we heard a man's voice being broadcast over the air-waves. We stared at each other in shock and turned up the volume.

"The time has come for the remaining survivors to form a stronghold against the zombies. We need to band together and take back what is ours," he said. "So if you're out there, find us, and join us."

"Yeah but where are you?" whispered Nora.

The man kept talking about having a generous food and water supply that they were willing to share as well if and when other survivors showed up to join their cause.

"Get on with it," mumbled Henry. "Can't find you if you don't tell us where you're at."

Then, as if the man had heard him, he announced where their bunker was.

My jaw dropped.

"The Mall Of America," said Nora, turning down the radio. "How in the world could anyone secure that place? There are too many doorways. They'd have to kill all of the zombies and then board up every one of those gla.s.s-doorways."

"Anything is possible," said Henry. "Besides, most of the zombies were sick people before they turned. Probably weren't many of them hanging out at the mall with the flu."

"Want to make a bet? My sister wouldn't let a little vomiting or fever keep her from shopping if she had the money and the vehicle to get her there. I'll bet there were plenty of zombies wandering the mall before these guys secured it," I said.

"This is good news," said Nora. "If we can't find our relatives at their homes, there may be a chance they've joined this Minnesota survivor's group."

"You might be right," said Henry. "But it still sounds a little too good to be true."

"I know. But at least we have another place to check if we can't find our families," I said.

"d.a.m.n tootin. Plus, I could use me a new change of clothes if we do make it to this mall. The ones I'm wearing are about ready to get up and walk away on their own."

"Yeah," said Nora. "You're starting to smell as bad as the zombies."

"It's part of my camouflage," smiled Henry. "Blend in with their smell and they can't even tell I'm alive. h.e.l.l, I've got one foot in the grave as it is."

"Oh brother," sighed Nora.

I shook his shoulder playfully. "You do not have one foot in the grave. Quit talking that way."

"I tell you one thing," said Henry. "Dying doesn't scare me anymore, Wild. Dying before I have the chance to get you girls safely back to Atlanta, now that's what scares the tar out of me. I don't want to let you down."

"You could never let us down," I said. "Now quit talking about dying."

"Well, I just want you both to know, I've got your backs."

"We've got yours, too," I said.

He nodded but said nothing more, which was a relief, because this melancholy side of him made me feel guilty. Back at the hotel, he'd obviously felt secure and happy for the first time in weeks. But then he'd decided to be a hero, just to keep the two of us safe from harm.If anything happened to him, I'd never forgive myself and either would Nora.

"Thanks Henry," I said.

"For what?" he asked, glancing at me in his rearview mirror.

"Everything. For being there for me every time I've needed you. Starting from that very first time we met. When I rear-ended you."

His eyes sparkled. "Too bad I couldn't have been there for you when you were learning how to drive."