Coldbrook (Hammer)(138)

They passed people both living and dead, most of them still walking. The living would be at the side of the road, waving them down for help, shouting, begging. But everyone in the car knew they could not stop. They had no more room in the vehicle. Many people carried guns, and several times Vic heard shots behind them when they passed by, and once something struck the vehicle’s wheel arch like a sledgehammer.

There were many dead wandering this part of the Appalachians. They sometimes saw them on the slopes, sad pale shapes moving aimlessly until they saw the car, even though sometimes they might be a mile away. Others had remained close to the road. Marc called a warning whenever the station wagon was about to hit someone, and usually there was time to cover Olivia’s eyes. Usually, but not always. His daughter had stopped crying, and Vic hated what that might mean.

An hour into the journey, and maybe halfway there, they saw a roadblock on top of a ridge. Marc stopped the vehicle.

‘No way to go overland,’ Marc said.

‘Sure it’s a roadblock?’ Sean asked.

‘The road’s blocked,’ Marc said, his words slow with sarcasm.

‘Yeah, but is it intentional?’ Vic said.

Marc tapped his fingers against the wheel. ‘Why bother blocking the road? Zombies don’t drive.’

‘We could go back,’ Lucy said. ‘Find another way around. Somewhere safer.’

‘Nowhere’s safe,’ Jayne said. Vic had thought she was asleep – her eyes were still closed.

As Marc edged them forward again Vic let go of Lucy’s hand and pulled the M1911 from his belt.

‘Let’s not look too threatening,’ Sean said. He lowered his window and leaned his arm outside, casual, cool. ‘Vic, keep your piece handy. But out of sight. Marc?’

‘I’m just the driver.’ In the mirror, Vic was amazed to see Jonah’s old friend smile.

They rolled to a stop fifty feet from the roadblock. A couple of big trucks had been parked nose-to-nose across the road, and whoever had done it had chosen the place carefully. Rocks on one side and a ditch on the other made passing impossible.

A man emerged from behind the truck on the left: short, long hair, a gun in his hand. There was movement in the ditch to their right, and Vic saw three faces peering up at them.

‘You got any food?’ the man called.

‘I’m hungry,’ Olivia said, reminded of her rumbling stomach.

‘Nothing,’ Sean shouted back. ‘What’re you doing hanging around—?’

‘My family’s hungry,’ the man said. ‘Can’t go to the towns. Can’t go to houses. They’re everywhere. And I can’t call anyone, the goddamn phones don’t work. And we’re starving. So . . .’ He lifted the gun and aimed it at the car. ‘So get out, hands up. And—’

‘We don’t have any food,’ Sean said.

‘Thomas!’ a woman said. Vic tried to see past Sean and Marc but he wasn’t sure where the voice had come from.

‘Thomas,’ the woman repeated. Sean opened his door and slipped out, lifting his gun and pointing it at Thomas’s face.

‘Oh Jesus,’ Lucy whispered.

Vic wanted to get out but he was trapped between his wife and daughter on one side and Jayne on the other. He reached past Jayne for the door handle, and Marc hissed like an animal.

‘Stay inside!’

The two men pointed guns at each other. In the ditch, the three faces stared, terrified.

‘We’re not infected,’ Sean said. ‘And we have someone very important with us. Someone who might be able to help stop all this. We’re going to somewhere in the mountains, an underground bunker called Coldbrook, where it’ll be safe. There’ll be food and water and shelter for you and your family.’

Thomas held the gun as if it was hot, and Vic thought he’d probably never fired it before. It took only a few seconds for him to lower it, and from somewhere behind the trucks the woman called out a third time, startled and scared: ‘Thomas?’

‘Good,’ Sean said. He kept his gun raised and stepped forward, and for a second Vic thought he was going to shoot the man in the face. Then he’d kill his wife and kids and steal whatever they had, because survival was the only law now.

But Sean paused again. ‘One of those yours?’ he asked, nodding at the trucks.

‘Both.’

Sean nodded and lowered his gun. ‘Bring the one with the most fuel. Follow us.’ He clapped the man on the shoulder, then returned to the station wagon.