Note: Finally.
For those of you who haven’t read any of the Journey Of St. Laurent before: You are now reading an online serial pulp novel. If you didn’t start at the beginning, you may want to do so. Chapter 1: Down By The Bay. This serial is the sequel to my first novel, Oasis.
Also, I broke my own first rule of editing here – I didn’t read it aloud to myself before posting. Let’s just hope I’ve kept the typos to a minimum.
Chapter 34 – Bumpy Ride
I really didn’t want to let on that London had saved out a vial of the virus, so I made sure to give Rhett the stink eye when I jerked open the door.
Rhett didn’t seem to notice. He just hurried us down the stairs and out the front.
A large military transport helicopter touched down in the middle of the pavement a couple of blocks down. Soldiers immediately poured out. A number of other military vehicles, including a couple of bigger transport trucks and several Humvees lined much of the street.
Did the president reconsider? Are they here to help out? Or are they just here for us? I shook my head. Of course they’re here for us.
A blue and primer gray El Camino sat just outside the hotel doors. Next to the car stood a young man in a black wife beater staring at the chopper. The wind from the rotors tossed around his shoulder length hair a bit, and he looked pretty uncomfortable.
Rhett opened the passenger door. “Let’s go.”
The long-haired kid started at the command, tore open the driver’s door, and flung himself inside.
Rhett held the door and motioned for London to climb in. “Come on, we’ve got to get moving.”
London hesitated then gave me a questioning look.
I shrugged and motioned to the open door as well.
She climbed in.
I hopped in the back, careful not to let my right thigh bang into anything, which was harder than you might think, because the bed was partially full of random scrap metal and logs.
I pushed some trash away so I could have a place to sit next to the cab. “Why do people even buy these instead of getting a real truck?”
Rhett jumped in on the other side. “I know, they’re ugly as sin.” He hit the top of the cab twice.
The car sputtered to life and the driver punched the gas.
My head jerked with the motion and I steadied myself on a big piece of rusty something-or-other. I hope this crap back here doesn’t shift too much.
As soon as we pulled away from the curb, one of the Humvees started up and pulled onto the road behind us.
Our driver must have seen it too, because he floored it again. The acceleration felt kind of like the stretching of a rubber band, but it was enough to slide several pieces of wood and metal toward the tailgate.
I hope his driving smooths out. I really don’t want to chance anything with the vial. I braced my arms on the sides of the bed and fought the urge to continually stare at my Velcroed pocket. Deep down, I was certain that Rhett would notice.
The Humvee stayed about thirty feet behind us, no flashing lights, no commands to stop, and no gun waving. The driver didn’t seem too concerned with catching us or stopping us. It was more like he was only shooing us out of town.
Two more giant military helicopters flew overhead.
Of course, the twerp at the wheel of the El Camino must have thought this was a life or death chase. That, or he was just a really bad driver. He took turn after turn too fast, and braked seemingly at random. Every time he did something crazy the heavy garbage shifted around.
Still, I was able to hold on for dear life and keep the pocket with the virus from any of the shifting refuse.
Until we hit the mother pothole just outside of town.
Our driver slammed on the brakes sending a load of metal and logs my way.
I extended a foot to redirect the path of the biggest log.
The car bounced down and up in what had to be a six inch deep hole in the road. My butt and legs were airborne and stuff was shifting under me.
I twisted mid-air as best I could and my left cheek came down hard on something solid.
The contact was going to bruise and it might even be bleeding. At least I knew the vial would remain intact.
Yet another victory that feels like an injury.
The Humvee cruised over the pothole without even dipping.
Rhett pounded on the cab and shouted something about slowing down.
Our driver must have figured it out because he took the edge off the speed for the rest of the short trip.
The Humvee stopped and turned around at the last curve before the camp.
Rhett looked over at me and made an attempt to shrug.
Everywhere I looked were trees, split up by the occasional cleared field. The terrain was all gentle hills that backed up on genuine Appalachian mountains. It would have struck me as quite picturesque if I wasn’t so worried about, you know, pretty much everything.
Last night I had been suprised at the number of people that had gathered to such a remote place on such short notice. And if I had been shocked last night, I was completely blown away in the daylight.
The field was filled with row upon row of campers, tents and RVs. There had to be at least two hundred of them, with probably a hundred and fifty more non-sleeper vehicles. Whoever had organized the camp had really done a good job. Over against one side there were several guys digging pits. At the far end of the field was the hill and behind it, the mountains.
The El Camino slowed and we bounced onto the field.
To my left I noticed a man playing catch with a little boy. The boy looked happy, but the man looked like death warmed over. He was wearing faded jeans and a polo shirt. Every time he tossed the ball, he would look first over his shoulder at a gun that was sitting on a camp chair and then at the sky. His eyes were dark with puffy bags underneath. Still, he kept on his fake smile and played ball with his son.
It occurred to me that he could have been anybody. He wasn’t a paramilitary nutjob or a gun worshiping lunatic. A week ago he was probably just an accountant or a real estate agent or a programmer. Now he was just a dad looking for a way to protect his kid.
The more I looked around, the more I noticed that he was the norm here. Not the camo pants and dog tag crowd. Just regular men and women joining in the fight that the government wasn’t willing to risk.
And why not? What are they afraid of?
Rhett pounded on the hood again and the car stopped next to a big canvas tent.
We jumped out of the back.
London kicked open the door before anyone else could get to it. She scrambled out of the car, and glared back. “And if you ever even talk to me again, I’ll break your smug little nose.” She slammed the door.
The long-haired kid drove off.
I pointed to the car. “What was that all about?”
London folded her arms. “Don’t want to talk about it.”
Rhett narrowed his eyes and stared at me for a second. “Before we go in, I gotta know. How dangerous is that virus, really?”
I shook my head and tried to stop wondering what the long haired kid had said. After all, I had Rhett’s full attention for a second.
Maybe if I lay it on thick, he’ll be willing to help, whether Jex likes the idea or not. “There has never been a disease as dangerous as this. There’s no cure. It works fast. It tore apart Oasis in the matter of a few days. I watched as people I loved and worked with were butchered by crazed…” I snorted a humorless laugh. “The people that were infected are, well I don’t even know how to describe them. They’re soulless, restless, and violent. They do not have control over their own bodies. They don’t even seem to be able to think other than use what is already a part of their muscle memory. They don’t feel pain. For lack of a better word they are zombies and they are unstoppable virus spreading machines.”
London frowned and touched my shoulder.
Rhett raised his bulky arms and cracked his knuckles. “So why are zombies better than aliens? What if it gets out?”
I shrugged. “A zombie can’t fly a spaceship or pull a trigger. It can’t strategize or make deals with coward politicians. And yes, it would be devastating if the virus infected a large city, but I don’t know how else to even the odds.”
He clenched his jaw for a moment, then nodded to the tent. “Well, let’s see if we can’t figure out what he did with your WMD.”
I looked over at London. “You ready?”
She lifted a balled fist. “Oh, I’m ready. Are you?”
“As ready as I’m going to get.”
We followed Rhett into the tent.
Keep Reading! Chapter 35 is here.
