A Thousand Nights with You - 18. Missing the Mark

The truck was already moving by the time I woke up. It wasn’t my brother’s arms that held me when I opened my eyes. It was Mark’s. He was stroking my hair when my head was lying on his lap. He was smiling at me, looking down at my face with his stubbly jaws and deep green eyes.

“Where is Tris?” I sat up and searched for my brother.

“I’m here, Dan.”

My brother is in front, close to the driver seat’s back windows. He was talking to Grey, and pointing at the directions on the road.

Grey and Tristan had found a mountain pass with signs that finally gave us some bearing of our location. We are at the southern tip of the Redwood Ridge National Park, about two hundred miles away from home. The mountain foot are lined with tall trees and thick undergrowth. From the lush green terrain, it means that there are freshwater sources not too far away. For once, I’m glad that I had paid attention to Geography classes.

The entrance road up the mountain is about 8 miles down, which means we will need to get back on the I29 highway to get there. It will only be around 10 minutes of driving or so. At least that was what we thought.

The mountain pass tunnel was dark, which we had to turn on the headlights to drive through. So far, we had been lucky. Apart from the few infected we encountered on the road, we were surprised we didn’t see a lot of them around.

“Don’t you think it’s strange? It’s like we’re being herded here.” Grace said.

“What do you mean?” Peter who’s on the wheels in front asked.

“It’s like this is the only route that we can drive. All the others were blocked off by abandoned cars or blown up bridges.” She said.

“I guess we are lucky then.” Grey commented.

“No. I mean, armies blow up bridges and roads to stop enemies from following their retreat. But the infected don’t need the road to travel. Only the people do.”

A few of us looked at each other and shrugged. None of us knew much about wars. As much as I am a geek, history puts me to sleep sooner than Mom’s Valerian roots. We are just grateful that we hadn’t got ourselves cornered by a roaming horde so far.

All of us sitting at the back of the truck were told to standby our weapons as we enter the dark tunnel. The windshields and the truck door in front are secured, but the back of the truck is pretty exposed. Even though the infected can’t climb up, they can topple a truck easily if there are enough of them. Besides, the tunnel is narrow and it would be very difficult for the large vehicle to make a turn back if we drive straight into a horde. That’s why Peter drove really slowly, just in case we need to make a hasty retreat.

The truck battery was weak and the headlights couldn’t illuminate very far ahead. It was cold, damp and dark, each clutching to a gun, a stick or a flash light, waiting for a grey mottled hand to appear over the ledge of the truck. The drive lasted only about a minute, but it felt like an hour.

When we finally saw the light at the end of the tunnel, what lifted us wasn’t the fact that we got it through safely. Everyone, even Felicia, stood up and held our breaths at the marvel as we entered the highway.

It stretched all the way to the horizon. From the road ahead, to the road behind us, moving vehicles of every shape and sizes are on it. Trucks, sedans, cement mixers, farm tractors and even golf carts are on the exodus.

“I can’t believe this. People are actually still alive!” Tristan gasped, a wide smile grew on his face.

“Where are these people going?” Mark asked.

“Why didn’t the Colonel tell the people? It would give everyone hope.” I said.

“I don’t know. Only Walters’ close aides have access to radios and communications. He told us we lost contact with the nearby bases, and we believed him.” Grey said.

“Maybe he didn’t want people to leave the city?” Grace said.

“Why would he do that? We are losing people to hunger and supply runs every day.” Peter said.

The traffic was moving pretty slowly, but we were too engrossed in our speculation to notice and care. The sight of so many living people lifted a dark cloud over our heads. We had to drive like 20 miles per hour and stop for every few minutes. At first we thought it won’t take long before we can finally get off the highway, so it don't really matter. But soon, the vehicles stopped moving completely. Many of the smaller cars and motorcycles behind tried to cut lanes and squeezed in between the larger vehicles. As a result, the highway is choked to the point where many cars in the middle lanes can’t even open their doors.

The vehicles are moving so slowly that we see hitchhikers sitting on top of them and some even between the luggage racks. One of the flatbed carries a huge Victoria’s Secrets billboard were littered with so many people that some were hanging on to it like monkeys. Throughout the entire stretch, all kinds of crap lined the road. I see furniture, canoes, luggage trunks and even a Grandfather’s clock strapped on to the top of a RV. There are people peddling all kinds of things, knocking on car windows. One guy was holding a laptop, probably trying to sell it or something. Seriously, who does he thinks will actually buy that at a time like this. I even saw one guy trying to sell his book collections for toilet rolls.

We jolted when a car alarm blared. Someone smashed a car window and robbed the radio from its owner. I could see Mark getting up from his seat, but Grace held him back. I was surprised that it wasn’t my brother the Boy Scout, who felt like he needed to do something.

We were puzzled about why we haven’t seen any moving vehicles or living people for the past few days on the road. Grey got out from the driver seat and started chatting up with some of the drivers in front. Out of curiosity, I got off the truck and followed him.

He found a chatty driver a few cars ahead of us. He was in a shirt and a loose tie, puffing away, waiting for the traffic in front to clear. He offered Grey a stick and I saw him lighting up. Soon, they talked like they were long lost old friends.

Apparently, two miles down the highway, a convoy of tanks and army vehicles are leading the ‘blues’ into the evacuation zones. The driver thinks the army probably set up a barricade into the mountain entrance so that they can screen every vehicle for infected passengers before they let them drive in.

“Screen with what?” Grey asked.

“Where have you been bunkering?” The driver smirks. “K9 of course! Those little bitches sniff out the diseased faster than any strip search.”

Cities and states are segregated into four zones: black, red, blue and green. Where we came from was declared black zone few days ago, meaning that it is completely overrun and abandoned by the army and the government. All nuclear power plants are being shut down, in case it is overrun and meltdown like China.

“An entire city died of radiation even before the mouldies can get to them. Can you believe it?” The driver shook his head and blew out a puff. He offered me a chocolate bar because he said I looked so malnourished. I gobbled it so quickly that I felt guilty for not remembering to leave some for my brother.

The driver told us that people from a few cities are being evacuated to the same area. If trying to get a few million people on the road wasn’t crazy enough, imagine all the ‘burbs’ in between cities joining up the exodus midway, clogging up the traffic with their gigantic SUVs and screaming kids do to the sanity of the road people.

“How does the army evacuate?” I asked the man.

“With the news and radio of course, what do you think?” He chortles. The driver was one of those ‘in-between cities’ refugees, from a suburban estate about 10 miles away. They still had power, news report and radio broadcasts up till the time he left.

“Don’t believe me?” He turned on the car radio and immediately the station started updating news on the ‘war’. That’s what they called the plague. It seems that’s what every station is reporting. War on the global front, war on the home front, emergency updates on the latest list of ‘inaccessible roads’, broadcast on the evacuation progress of the different zones.

Grey wasn’t the only soldier in uniform straddled on a civilian vehicle. We went further down the road and saw half a dozen GIs sitting at the back of a pickup with a bunch of Mexicans who doesn’t seem to speak English. Some of their faces were bruised and uniform stank of urine and faeces. It wasn’t the infected who did this to them. It was the people they had left behind.

The remaining power plants are being defended by a token force and supplies power to the ‘green’ and the ‘blue’ zone cities and housing estates. ‘Red’ areas are heavily infested but there is a small army left behind to defend whatever survivors that remains. One of the emaciated soldiers told them that their Commander shot himself when he refused to follow orders to retreat.

“Coward,” He spat on the ground, “he left me behind to do his dirty job.”

They were pelted with buckets of shit, rocks by the people they had abandoned. I thought that they deserved it.

“Don’t you judge me, boy.” The Lieutenant yelled at me, pointing to his soldiers. “Look at these kids, eighteen, nineteen years old. They will be charged with treason and shot on sight if I don’t follow the fucking orders.”

“What are your orders?” Grey asked him.

“Leave the food and medical supplies. Join up with the 264 Battalion along the I29 highway.”

One of the younger soldiers burst into tears. He couldn’t have been older than Tristan, and most likely to be recruited after the outbreak. Just like my brother. The older boy choked, “I lied to Mom that I will be back. She believed me. I won't see her again.”

His uniform looked way too big for him. It looked like he just put on the uniform taken from a dead soldier. He might even be a year or two older than me. None of the soldiers said anything. I don't know how to comfort a crying soldier either. I guess no one does. Soldiers aren't supposed to cry.

These vehicles are heading towards the ‘blue’ zones, evacuation points that are protected by natural terrains like mountainous ridges, canyons and rivers. This is where the bulk of the army will retreat to and consolidate their forces.

“What about the green zones?” Grey asked the soldiers.

“Fucking Nirvana.” One of them said.

The green zones are cities that are evacuated into two selected coastal ports where they will be ferried into clusters of ‘floating cities’ made up of connected naval ships and aircraft carriers from several Atlantic nations. There are three other floating cities in the Pacific, Indian and the Baltic Ocean.

“Heaven on Earth – food, electricity, safety – they have it all. Those ships and carriers are powered by nuclear submarines and all.” He said. Many run of the ships also run on cell membrane technology that can provide electricity almost indefinitely.

“So those staying near the seas got it lucky?” Grey said.

“Not actually. I don’t know what the brass are thinking but only a few cities get to be evacuated there. You would think they’d evacuate the ones nearby. But no. They even bombed the roads just to make it difficult for people to get there.” The Lieutenant said.

“Then who do they evacuate?” I asked.

“Some of the midland states and one nearby city. I don’t know what the big strategy is, but proximity doesn’t necessarily put you on the party list.”

He listed some of the towns and areas that were on the coastal evacuation list. I realized they were all agricultural states or industrial towns. One of the older soldier heard from his pilot friend that he saw many of the aircraft carrier runways are turned into factories and hydroponic farms. Little retractable bridges are built to chain the ships together.

“Wouldn’t everyone want to get to those floating cities?” Grey asked.

“You bet. But the army had all but abandoned the coastal cities except for the two designated ports. Most harbours are already overrun. I heard entire cruise liner got infected when one of the bitten swimmers came on board. The yachts and smaller fishing boats are safer, but not many made it to the open sea. So when the plane flies over, my friend thought they were survivors waving for help. But when he gets closer, they were all infected reaching for the skies on the deck. The seas are full of these ‘ghost ships’. Most ships run out of fuel or supplies. If not infected, he can corpses littered on the deck, dead from dehydration or hunger. Even if you made it there, the war ships form an outer ring of the floating cities. No ships or boats can get near without quarantine clearance.”

“What about people from elsewhere? Why don’t they head directly to these coastal ports instead?” I asked.

“Didn’t you hear what I said? They bombed most of the highways and roads. The news said it’s to stop the infection from following the retreating armies. The only way to do that is to stop people from following.”

Suddenly, an image started forming in my head. I asked the soldier to tell me which are the blue and green zones, and the roads he knew that were bombed.

“Get a radio if you don’t plan to follow the convoy. They broadcast every two hours the latest 'traffic update'.” He meant the list of highways and bridges that are bombed.

We head back to the truck and passed by the driver we spoke to earlier. He climbed out from his windows and left his car already.

“What is it, Daniel?” Grey could tell that I was troubled.

From what we heard, it seems unlikely that the Colonel had wanted our food to barter his entry into the floating cities. If he had the same orders as the other garrisons, he could have wanted the stockpile of food to for the community that he was planning to leave behind to join up with the retreating main army. I felt the sharp sting of guilt piercing me. I shook my head, not wanting to let Grey know about what I was thinking.

“Grey, how come the infection took so long to reach other cities?” I asked.

“I’m surprised too, considering how soon our city was overrun.” He said.

The lady driver beside overheard us and said, “Ain’t it obvious? The infected are busy chomping up the survivors that were left behind. You think the army was sent there to protect us? They were there to make sure people don’t leave.”

The woman who spoke was from one of the red zones where the army pulled out on them. She managed to scavenge a car and escaped her garrison.

“Why would they do that?” I asked. She gave me a look that made me realized that she was being sarcastic.

“How the hell will I know?” She shrugs. “We kept telling the soldiers we could all leave on their trucks but they won’t listen. We wake up one morning and found all of them LEFT. The choppers still came and drop supplies now and then. But what do they think we could do with pistols? Shoot ourselves? Half of the people trapped on the roof tops were fucking wearing dentures.”

Back in the truck, I retreated into a corner, thinking about what those people had said. Using my fingers, I try to draw out the retreat routes of the surrounding cities with the dust on the truck floor. Grey turned behind and spoke to me through the back window of the driver seat.

“What’s eating you?” He said.

I look up at him and said, “We mustn’t follow the army up to the mountain.”

He looked at me, confused for a moment. “Why?”

“I can’t explain it, but I have a very bad feeling about this.”

Grey furrowed his brows. I was being unreasonable statement and I know it. He said, “The National Park has an alpine freshwater lake. There’s fish and wood, and it’s easy defensible with the ridges protecting us. Not to mention a freshly supplied army to guard the entrances.”

“But what if things turn out like the school camp?” I asked.

Grace and Peter overheard our conversation and they started throwing in their thoughts as well. Technically speaking, they are considered deserters. Wouldn’t the Commander of this army convoy charge them with treason or something? Grace thinks that the Colonel went rogue, which means disserting him is totally legitimate. Peter reminded her that he is still in contact with the President, which means he is still following orders. Arguments got even more heated up when Tristan chipped in. He said that we don’t know if the Colonel is lying about being in contact with the President. No one had access to radios and he could tell us anything he wanted. Why hadn’t he told us about the radio broadcasts? If the Colonel was trying to save his own skin, why didn’t he evacuate the army sooner? None of it adds up at all.

After an hour or so, the mood on the road got even worse. Throughout the time, our truck moved like a total of five yards on the road. Some people started honking their cars, which is totally not helping the situation. I felt a little bad when some of the drivers climbed out from their windows and started punching each other. But I was secretly glad that they finally stopped the honking. Those who can get out of their cars started to walk. They are actually travelling faster than the vehicles. The poor souls trapped in the middle of the lanes are starting to unwind their windows before they suffocate.

The walking crowd made the traffic jam worse. Whatever little space that were left in between vehicles are soon filled with people. I saw a family of five in a giant SUV, trapped in between cars from door to door - it could only open to about an inch or so. They were trying to get the vehicle next to them to open up their windows so that they can climb through their vehicles and get out from the sides. Fortunately for us, the truck is elevated enough for us to hop out anytime we want. But we had a whole winter worth of supplies to lose if we abandon the vehicle. And with so many people walking on top of cars, some of them managed to figure out what we are hiding under the canvas covers behind us.

A few guys try to board our truck but got promptly thrown off (at gun point) by Grace. Some begged for food and water. It broke my heart to see some of them are old enough to be my Grandpa.

“WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Grace yelled at me when I threw a pack of Algae cake to the old man who was carrying a young girl, three to four years old in his arms.

Before I could even justify my action, I realized why she was pissed at me. More people swarm around our truck, realizing that we have supplies. Some begged for medicine. A few of them are shouting and cursing at us. There was even a topless woman who asked us if we want to trade for gas. I ‘accidentally’ stepped on Mark’s toes when he and Tristan were gawking at her. That little distraction got out of hand when one of the burly man pushed Grace over and climbed on to our truck. He was about to make off with a tray of food before we heard a loud scream.

He dropped the food as a rusty letter opener was stabbed deep into his shoulders. A black leather boot kicked him over the edge of the truck, immediately dispersing the crowd in front of us. Felicia stepped out from the shadows, bends over and pulls out the letter opener from the man who was crying out in agony.

“What’s going on?” Grey came to the back from the driver’s seat. He stared at the groaning man, and then at Felicia. She was simply cleaning the letter opener with the hem of her shirt.

A running mutt caught my attention. Something about the way he darted forward without turning to look sideways perturbed me.

“Tristan, do you still have the binoculars in your bag?” I asked.

“Why do you want it?”

“Just give it to me.”

I grabbed it and looked at the road behind.

Nothing.

The highway is just as stuck as we are right here. People are actually walking faster than the cars. Still feeling uneasy, I told Mark to hoist me up to the truck roof. I try to find my footing on the metal ledge underneath the canvas covers. I doubt the sheet will be able to bear my weight. After I got a firm footing, I stand up properly and look through the binoculars again. That’s when I got a better view of the horizon.

It looks like a few miles behind us. People are running in between cars. There was a large trailer ranch truck that was shaking violently. I think there are animals inside.

I waited a little. And I can finally see why now.

The infected are spreading like wildfire at the start of the highway. People are being dragged out from the car windows or the infected tried to get inside. Some of the car windows are already wound up, but within seconds the entire car is buried under a pile of infected. They can’t get in, but the people can’t get out either. Those who are in a few cars ahead and trapped in the middle, they tried to smash their windscreen so that they can escape. But by the time they broke through the glass, the bulk of the running swarm are no longer humans.

I couldn’t pull my eyes away. The Earth shook. No, it was my hands that held the binoculars were shaking.

“Dan, what’s wrong?” Mark asked.

Grey climbed up the truck and snatched the binoculars from me. Within seconds, he dragged me back down and told everyone. “Grab whatever you can; meds first, food and weapons only if you have spare hands to carry. We abandon truck now.”

“What’s going on?” Grace asked.

“But our supplies-” Peter

“NOW!” Grey’s face told them everything they needed to know. There’s no need for further explanation. The seven of us grabbed what we could and hop off the truck. Many people swarm on to it to loot what we left behind. But within two minutes or so, we can hear the screams catching from behind.

The newly infected horde is approaching.

Mark grabbed me when I almost lost my footing jumping from the top of one car to another. Peter helped Grey who was limping his way. Never run on the ground between cars, he told us. And we didn’t need to look behind to know why. There are people running in front and behind you. Once you trip, you will be trampled. And if the person behind got bitten, you will be dragged down immediately.

The chaos behind caught up with us sooner than we think. The screams got louder. I heard someone fell over the highway railings. I tried not to look at the heights by the highway road. It’s at least a thirty feet drop. If he’s lucky, the trees might break his fall.

“Keep running, don’t look back!” Grey shouted.

By now, the screams didn’t sound too far away. Just the downwind, I keep telling myself. But when I see Tristan picked up his speed and practically dragged me by the hand, I know things are pretty bad behind.

I felt a hand reached for my ankles but missed by an inched.

I yelped and cried.

Ahead of us, Grey suddenly screeched to a halt.

“JUMP!”

Before I could see what’s going on, I felt Tristan dragged me to the side of the road. Tristan jumped first, and then someone behind me practically pushed me over the railings.

I can’t tell my own screaming apart from the rest. Gun shots.

Then I fell.

A huge thud. Or was it a huge explosion? I wasn’t sure.

Then water.

Brown muddy water, I remember drinking lots of them.

I felt hands clawing at me under the water. I must have passed out. When I wake up, I thought I heard the sound of falling rain. Tap. Tap. Tap. I opened my eyes and find myself lying on my brother’s thighs. I sat up from the muddied river banks and saw the source of the sound.

The Highway was blown up ahead. The infected are dropping over the edge, crashing down on the rocks beneath at a constant pace. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Not all are infected. There are still people holding on to the ledge. They were being pulled up, but they weren’t rescued. It was the infected pulling them up, grabbing for their meals. Whatever pain they had to suffer didn’t last long. Within seconds, the horde behind pushed them over to the edge, joining the pile of corpses below.

It was a hypnotic sight to see them pile up like Tetris. Soon, the mass of bodies below got high enough the break the fall of the infected above. As soon as the first one got up, I heard Grey’s voice saying that we should move immediately.

I sat up, coughed up some water and looked around me. I suddenly panicked and screeched.

“WHERE IS MARK?!”