Days 101 to 108 (Mass Extinction Event Book 7) Page 2

  “It's not that simple.” He pauses. “Anyway, I've already taken one part.”

  “You had no right! Give it back!”

  “It's one of the nuts on the compressor,” he replies.

  “Give it back!”

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “I needed it,” he says firmly. “Your car's a hunk of junk, it's going nowhere. At least what's left can be useful, so I cannibalized a few bits and pieces.”

  “It's not yours to take apart,” I point out. “Give it back.”

  “Go get it for yourself,” he says, stepping aside and gesturing for me to go past. “Be my guest.”

  I take a step toward his truck, before stopping for a moment and then turning back to him.

  “I don't know what it looks like!” I tell him.

  “Then I reckon you've got a problem,” he says, stuffing his hand into his pockets.

  Furious at his attitude, I turn and march toward the truck. I want to take a piece off it, but I don't know where I'd begin. Finally, reaching the front of the vehicle, I grab hold of the side-view mirror and rip it away.

  “Hey!” he yells. “Why did you do that?”

  “If you want this back,” I reply, “you'll have to give me the nut first.”

  He pauses, before shrugging.

  “I can drive without that mirror,” he says. “It's not as if there's a lot of traffic on the roads these days.”

  “I have to get to Philadelphia,” I tell him, stepping over to join him once more. “Don't you understand? My father gave me a job, he sent me to deliver a note so that reinforcements would come. They should be on their way by now, everyone in Boston is relying on me and I'm already late.” I hand the side-view mirror to him. “I'm sorry,” I add. “I shouldn't have done that.”

  “Damn straight you shouldn't,” he says, slipping past me and going to the front of the truck, then trying to put the mirror back into place. “You can't just go around damaging property like that. Especially not if you're planning on asking anyone for a favor. When you meet someone who can help you, you wanna try to keep them on your side.”

  “Why would I ask you for a favor?”

  “Well, for starters, I reckon you'll be wanting to come with me once my truck's up and running.”

  “Your truck doesn't look like it's in a much better state than my car.”

  “At least I know how to fix it!”

  “Not with parts from my car!”

  “You're not using them!”

  “They're still mine!” I snap, before putting my hands on the side of my head. I feel like my entire head is on the verge of exploding, and I take a moment to reset my thoughts before turning and looking toward the horizon.

  During the night, I could see a distant glow. Now, in daylight, there's nothing to see other than some hints of smoke rising up from the city. There are no sounds, no distant booms. It's as if the fighting is over.

  “Dad,” I whisper.

  “They carried on fighting all night,” Thomas says after a moment, as if he guessed what I was thinking about. “They were still going at it when the sun came up. I mean, I didn't know they had so many weapons with them and stuff like that. Every so often I heard a distant boom, like maybe something got blown up, but I haven't heard a thing for about two hours and I don't actually know what's happening there. I don't know if they're still fighting, I don't know who's winning, I don't know anything.”

  “They wouldn't have given up,” I whisper, watching the smoke for a moment. “None of them would.”

  “Who are you talking about?” Thomas asks.

  I turn to him, and suddenly I realize that – for all I know – this guy might be on the opposite side. He might very well be with the people who were attacking Boston, in which case I might be hanging around with the enemy.

  “Now you're giving me a funny look,” he says, furrowing his brow. “Here's the thing. I'm almost done fixing my truck, and then I'm -”

  “We have to go to Philadelphia!”

  “This isn't a negotiation,” he replies. “I'll be out of here in about thirty minutes, heading to Boston. Whether you're with me or not, that's up to you.”

  Thomas

  At least she's shut up now.

  Once I've checked that there's nothing leaking, I wriggle along the underside of the car and start trying to figure out whether the brakes are going to hold. Joe taught me a lot about vehicle maintenance, but it'd be an understatement to say that there are a few minor gaps in my knowledge. I'm managing to guess a lot of things, and guess them right for the most part; I've had to backtrack in a few areas, but I'm confident this pile of junk will at least get me as far as Boston, where I can meet up with the others.

  I reach up and start checking the front right wheel.

  For a moment, I think back to before the crash. I was driving like a madman, I think part of me actually wanted to crash. It's only now, in the cold light of day, that I realize I can't let the others down. I have to go to Boston and show Toad and everyone else – even Doctor Carter – that I'm no coward. So as I roll over and clamber out from under the truck, I'm already starting to feel like I have a sense of purpose again. Maybe this crash gave me the shock I needed to sort my head out.

  Nearby, Elizabeth is sitting by the side of the road, sobbing with her face in her hands.

  Girls are nuts.

  Something about her annoys me but, at the same time, I feel kind of sorry for her. She looks ridiculous in that over-sized contamination suit – or whatever the hell it is – and she seems pretty frazzled. I keep catching her whispering to herself, almost like she's talking to herself, and she seems frantic. I guess all this craziness does funny things to people. Some of us managed to keep going without cracking, but for others it might be a little harder to stay all pulled together. I guess I shouldn't be too hard on this Elizabeth girl.

  I climb into the truck and grab the key, and then I give it a turn. The engine makes a faint spluttering sound, but at the last second it cuts out. I try again, with no better result, and then I sit for a moment and take a deep breath.

  “Joe,” I whisper, “if you're watching over me, I'm asking you to please make this thing work.”

  I pause, and then I try the ignition for a third time. The engine splutters and then almost dies, but somehow it keeps going and finally the entire truck shudders as the engine starts running properly. I mean, sure, it sounds a little rough, but I think it's actually going to get us all the way to Boston. I switch the engine off again, to save gas.

  “Hey!” I yell as I clamber out and hurry around to the back so I can shove my few tools inside. “If you're coming, let's go!”

  I climb into the back and make sure everything's secure, and at the same time I spot Elizabeth heading toward the truck.

  “I'm sorry if I was tough on you earlier,” I tell her, “but desperate times sometimes make it kind of hard to be polite.”

  I finish strapping everything down, then I climb off the back of the truck and head around to the front. To be honest, I'm actually pleased that Elizabeth wants to come with me, but then as I reach the driver's door I stop as I see that she's standing a little way back.

  “So are you coming?” I ask cautiously.

  “I'm not going to Boston,” she replies.

  “Then you're not coming with me,” I tell her, climbing into the truck. She'll crack, I know she will. Girls always do. “I'll feel bad if I have to leave you here, but I will do it.” I pull the door shut and pause, watching her face for any hint of a clue as to what she's really thinking. “So are you coming?”

  “I'm not going to Boston,” she says again.

  I stare at her for a moment, and then I sigh as I reach out to turn the engine back on. I guess I need to really scare her, make her realize that I'm willing to abandon her on the side of the road.

  “Suit yourself,” I mutter. “I don't know where you'll -”

  I freeze as I realize that the keys are missing.


  I search for them, patting my pockets first and then checking down near my feet, but there's no sign of them anywhere.

  Finally, I turn and see that Elizabeth is holding them up and letting them dangle in the morning sunlight.

  “We go to Philadelphia,” she says calmly, “or I toss these into the forest. They might even land in that little stream down there, the one that's running pretty fast. And in case you were wondering, this isn't a negotiation.”

  Elizabeth

  “There's no point going to Philadelphia,” he grumbles for the tenth time since we set off a few minutes ago. “What exactly do you think you're going to achieve?”

  “I'm going to do what my father told me to do,” I reply, gripping the wheel and keeping the truck on the road. “Once we're there, you can go wherever you want. I won't stand in your way. But right now we're going to Philadelphia, and if you try to stop me, I'll drive this pile of junk straight back into a ditch.”

  “I actually believe you would,” he mutters darkly, before adding something under his breath.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “Nothing.”

  I keep my eyes fixed on the road ahead, determined to get us to Philadelphia as quickly as possible. I've lost track of how long this journey should take, but at least the road-signs are still mostly in place so I figure I can find some kind of decent route. It'd be easier, of course, if I didn't have this brooding asshole in the seat next to me, but I guess it's too late to tell him to go sit in the back. Then again, I kind of understand why he's mad at me; I have stolen his truck, at least temporarily.

  “So are you one of them?” I ask finally.

  “One of who?”

  “The army that was coming to Boston. Well, there were several of them.”

  I wait for an answer, but it's already clear that he doesn't want to tell me, which I guess can only mean one thing.

  “We were coming to free Boston,” he replies finally, sounding a little uncertain now. “At least, that's what we were told. There weren't that many of us, but we were supposed to meet up with some others. We were supposed to overthrow some bad people. That's what they said.”

  “And you believed it?”

  “I don't like fighting,” he continues. “Mostly, I was following a friend of mine. His name is -”

  He stops suddenly.

  “His name is what?” I ask.

  “Never mind. It doesn't matter.”

  “It matters to you.”

  “He's probably dead. Maybe they all are. Did you think about that? Maybe all your side and all my side ended up dead. Maybe they all fought until there was no-one left.”

  “I see,” I reply. “You're an optimist.”

  “I'm a realist,” he says, “and -”

  He pauses.

  “Stop!” he says suddenly.

  “How dumb do you think I am?” I ask, but then I see what's ahead. There's a red car parked at the side of the road, and we're getting closer and closer.

  “It might be a trap,” he says.

  “Then I should speed up and -”

  “There might be something to cut the tires!”

  “There might be people waiting for us to stop so they can kill us!”

  “Stop the truck!” he yells. “Stop it now!”

  I hesitate, before deciding to keep my foot down. We race past the stricken car, but I just about manage to see that there doesn't appear to be anyone inside.

  “False alarm,” I point out, although I take a moment to glance in the rear-view mirror as the red car recedes into the distance. “It was nothing.”

  “Nothing's nothing,” he replies. “Not anymore.”

  He turns and looks back, and I can tell that he's worried about that car.

  I'm just about to tell him to calm down, when I realize I can see another car up ahead. This one's black, and it's parked sideways-on so that it partially blocks the road. I glance at the trees on either side and try to work out whether there's anyone lurking in there, waiting to jump out at us, but so far I don't see anyone at all.

  “A lot of people abandoned their vehicles on this stretch,” Thomas points out.

  “You should have seen the road out of Manhattan,” I tell him. “People abandoned stuff everywhere.”

  “But this is a pretty rural road,” he replies. “Something's not right.”

  “I'm not stopping,” I say as we get closer and closer to the black car.

  “I don't want you to,” he replies. “I think maybe you were right first time.”

  I feel a flash of relief as we drive past this second vehicle, but that flash ends quickly as I see that there's already another car up ahead. This one's dark too, and it's parked at a slightly less tight angle than the second car. I can see that there's nobody inside, but once again I look to the side of the road and watch in case there's anything to suggest we're about to be ambushed.

  “Just keep going,” Thomas says, “and be prepared to speed up if anything happens.”

  “Anything like what?” I ask.

  “You know what I mean.”

  I take a deep breath and drive past this third car. Feeling relieved that nothing happened, I glance in the rear-view mirror.

  And then I see it.

  “Someone's in there!” I gasp.

  Thomas turns and looks.

  Still staring into the mirror, I can see the figure that – just after we passed – sat up straight in the car's passenger seat.

  “Do you see it?” I ask.

  “I see it.”

  “That's someone who's alive, right?”

  “Or one of those creatures.”

  “Why would one of the creatures be hiding from us?” I ask, constantly shifting my gaze from the mirror to the road ahead and then back again. “It's like that person stayed down so we wouldn't see, and then he sat up once we'd gone past. He was keeping out of sight deliberately.”

  “I know,” Thomas replies, and I can tell from the sound of his voice that he's concerned. “I think it's a very good job that we didn't stop back there.”

  “What if there were people in the other cars?” I ask.

  “We won't know. Ever.”

  I drive the car over the crest of the hill, and then I feel a shudder in my chest as I see the road ahead. There are more cars, lots of them, scattered along the sides of the road.

  Thomas

  “Just stay cool,” I say as Elizabeth continues to thread the truck between the various abandoned cars. “There's no point panicking.”

  “Did you see anyone moving yet?”

  “No,” I reply, still watching the various cars as we go past. Most of these vehicles are damaged, and a lot of them have smashed windshields. Many of them have also been left with their doors wide open.

  “I don't like this,” Elizabeth says.

  “Just stay focused.”

  She steers the truck around another car, although in the process she manages to bump against the rear of the vehicle.

  “Maybe you can let me drive,” I suggest.

  “I'm driving until we get to Philadelphia,” she replies. “After that, it's all yours again.”

  “It's mine anyway.”

  “You know what I -”

  Before she can finish, she bumps the truck's front against the next car, causing a heavy thud that brings us to a halt. She mutters something under her breath and starts slowly reversing.

  “What if I promise to still go to Philadelphia?” I ask with a sigh. “At this rate, we're never going to get anywhere.”

  This time she doesn't reply, and instead she slowly – way too slowly – steers the truck around the next car and then straightens us up before taking a hard left so she can go around another vehicle that's in our way.

  “This doesn't seem random,” she says finally. “It's like someone parked these here to slow us down on purpose.”

  “I'm sure people just abandoned these things.”

  “On a rural road in the middle of nowhere?
All in a bunch like this?”

  “Just focus on getting us through this mess,” I reply. “We're almost at the end.”

  As she continues to drive us slowly between the various cars, I can't help looking over my shoulder, watching the other vehicles for any more sign that we're not alone. I've been downplaying my concern for Elizabeth's sake, but I sure as hell don't like the idea that there are people hiding in some of the cars, and I definitely saw someone a while back. I can't imagine why people would do something like that, but it's hard to believe that their reasons could be good. Over the past hundred days, I've learned to never quite trust people.

  “Do you see something up there?” Elizabeth asks suddenly.

  I turn and look along the road.

  “Where?” I ask.

  “Beyond the last car, on the side.”

  I try to see what she's on about, but there's nothing.

  “You don't see it?” she continues.

  “I don't see anything that looks wrong,” I tell her.

  “Okay, maybe I'm just imagining things.” She steers the truck around the last car, and finally we're free of the impromptu blockade.

  I open my mouth to tell her she did well, but then I realize that there is something up ahead, slumped on the side of the road. I tell myself that it's nothing, but deep down I know that it looks a lot like a human body. And as we speed up and get closer, I realize that this particular body looks to be quite small, as if maybe it's a child. Finally, Elizabeth slows the truck to get a better look.

  “I told you,” she says, as the little girl's white dress flutters in a gentle breeze. She's face-down in the grass. “It's a kid.”

  “Keep going,” I reply, before glancing back to check again that we don't have company.

  “We can't just leave her here!”

  “She's dead!”

  “You don't know that.”

  “She's not moving!” I point out. “She's not doing anything, she's just... there!”

  I wait for Elizabeth to hit the gas, but I've already got this sinking feeling that she's going to do something stupid.

  “She's dead,” I say again, “and -”

  “She just moved!”