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As the men dragged Steve away, I stood near Maureen and Tanesha, watching and thinking I should say a prayer or something. “I don’t want to be out here anymore. I want to go back. I wish I’d never left,” was what came out of my mouth instead.

“
Go back where? That town?” Tanesha said. “What the hell for? We have to get to
civilization
, someplace really safe, where the army’s in control and we can get vaccinated.”

“
You want to go to the Emerald City and see the Wizard? I don’t think you’re going to find what you’re looking for.”

“
You like that guy, Brian,” Maureen guessed. “That’s why you want to go back.”

“
Hell yeah, I shoulda known there was a man involved,” Tanesha said. “There always is with this one.”

“
It’s not like that. He’s not just some dude I hooked up with.” I could hear how lame that sounded given that he was a dude and I
had
hooked up with him. But they couldn’t know how different this felt from any of my past relationships. What did Tanesha know about my track record anyway? I’d been with Denny when we met. One guy.

I stopped trying to explain myself and went over to my motorcycle. After checking that my gear was still secure, I rested my hand on the backpack and thought of the Magic Eye book inside.

Daylon was suddenly beside me. “Are you okay?”

I looked up at him. “This feels wrong. I think we should go back. Aaron’s hurt and Durbinville’s closer than Topeka.”

“
There are other towns on the way where we could stop.”

“
Other towns might be overrun with zombies. We don’t know what we’re heading into.” The glinting of the sun on the shiny metal thing ahead caught my eye again. I looked down the road and there sat my answer, shining like a beacon, telling me I was right. I pointed at the silver cylinder on wheels with
Arrow Petroleum
printed on the side. The gas truck wasn’t overturned or jackknifed, just neatly pulled over to the side of the road about a mile away as if waiting for us. “The townies need gas for their generators and stuff. We can take it to them as a peace offering.”

“
Ashleigh, we’re not going back.” Impatience rippled through Daylon’s voice like a breeze gearing up to become a blustering wind.

I glared at him. “You don’t have to. I will.”

“
How you gonna drive that thing, and who’ll watch your back? You can’t travel by yourself.”

“
I’ll figure out how to drive the truck and I
can
travel alone.”

“
No you can’t. You won’t make it.”

“
I’ll be in a frigging semi . I don’t think anything much can stand in my way. Besides, it’s only a day’s ride back to Durbinville.”

Our escalating argument drew the others to cluster around.

“
What’s up?” Carl asked.

“
Nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Daylon answered at the same time I said, “I want to take that gas truck to Durbinville.”

Our group was filled with strong-willed people, each of whom had an opinion to express—all at the same time. I was bombarded by “You’re crazy”, “Ashleigh, you’re not thinking straight” and “Why would we do that?”

“
I’m not asking any of you to go,” I interrupted. “I understand your agenda—get vaccinated, go south for the winter. Nobody has to go with me.”

“
You can’t go alone,” Maureen said. “Think about what you’re saying.”

“
I
have
thought about it. This is what I want to do. You’re not going to change my mind.”

“
Those trucks aren’t easy to operate Carl reiterated Daylon’s argument. “ Just turning the rig around on a road this narrow would be hazardous and that tank’s full of combustible fuel.”

“
I can help you,” Aaron spoke up unexpectedly. “The condition I’m in I can’t ride a cycle anyway. I know how to drive a rig. I don’t have a license but my dad was a long haul trucker. I used to go on the road with him sometimes when I was a kid. I can drive for you.” He rubbed his arm which he cradled close to his body. “Or at least teach you how to do it.”

“
Good.” A surge of relief flooded through me because despite my big words I hadn’t been at all sure I could figure out the mechanics of driving a semi. “That’s it then. You guys go on. We’ll head back.”

“
Well, let’s make sure the damn thing even works,” Daylon said. “There might not be any keys or it could be out of gas or broken down. There must be some reason the driver abandoned it.”

Everyone mounted their cycles and fired their engines, Aaron catching a ride with Daylon. We swooped down the road toward the tanker like crows descending on carrion. Close up, the truck was huge and intimidating. I patted the seat of my motorcycle, telling my sweet Harley goodbye, then climbed up into the rig, determined to show I wasn’t backing down from the choice I’d made. I stowed my bags in back then sat in the driver’s seat and stared at the daunting control panel. “Shit.”

The passenger door opened and Aaron heaved himself onto the seat beside mine, grunting and wincing with pain. “Look, key’s in the ignition. Wonder what happened to this guy. Maybe he ran out of gas, went to get some and never made it back. Crank her up and see if she goes.”

The irony of a gas truck running out of gas wasn’t lost on me. I prepared for another cosmic joke as I turned the key in the ignition, but the engined roared to life with the ease of a jungle cat stretching and purring.

“
Good. Give it a minute to let the air build up and meanwhile I’ll show you the gearshift pattern. Then we’ll go forward to the next crossroads where we can turn around.”

I paid close attention while Aaron explained the mysteries of the dashboard. Daylon rapped on the door of the truck and I opened it.

“
So, you’re really committed to this?”

“
Yeah. Aaron says there’s enough gas in the tank for us to make it back. We’ll go east until we come to a crossroads where we can turn this bad beast, then we’ll split off from you guys.”

Daylon shook his head. “I don’t like it. I think you’re making a mistake.”

“
I’ll miss you too.” I smiled at him, understanding his scowl meant concern and his warning, that he cared about me. It would be hard to say goodbye to all of them but especially Daylon, who I’d been with since the beginning.

I closed the door and watched him walk over and talk to the others, then all of the motorcycles moved into formation in front of us.

Aaron leaned over to check the gauges and pointed to two big buttons on the dash.
“
Push them in to release the brakes.
”
A hiss of air filled the truck.
“
You
’
re set to go.
”

I eased off the clutch and fed the engine a little and it slowly moved forward. My shifting was accomplished with some grinding and screeching of gears. But as the rig gathered speed, I started to catch the rhythm of when to shift and how much to accelerate. I glanced into the side mirror and saw the long, silver tube of the tanker dragging like a big fat butt behind us. Damn, the thing was huge and heavy.

“
Keep her slow and steady. And remember you can’t brake like you would in a car. Plan ahead when you can, but if something comes out in front of you, for God’s sake, don’t slam on the brakes.”

Under the circumstances, I knew it was the good advice. It wasn’t as if a toddler or a kid on a bike was likely to be the obstruction I’d be flattening on the pavement.

We sailed down the road with the cycles escorting us, pilot fish to our Great White. This countryside was generally flat but with occasional rises and dips. From the top of a slope, I could see the land stretching out before us, more cornfields, naturally, and the crossroads we’d been waiting for.

“
Slow down on this slope,” Aaron warned. “You have to remember the load behind you is liquid so it’s can get off balance.”

I’d already taken my foot off the gas and was easing on the brake pedal. As we coasted down the incline I noticed a ripple of movement throughout the fields to the northeast. I cut my gaze from the road to the corn as I braked and downshifted. “Oh shit.”

“
You’ll be all right. We’re going to make a left at the crossroad, back up and then make another left. If we tried to circle around the truck might get stuck in the shoulder or lose balance.”

“
No. Not that. Look!” I took my hand from the wheel long enough to point at the dark shapes stirring the corn and turning it into waves. There were dozens of them. The largest group of undead I’d seen since we left Vegas swarming like army ants. They were in the field and the road ahead.

“
How do you honk this horn?” I asked, anxious to warn the others in case they hadn’t seen what was coming.

“
Pull the cord there.”

I followed his direction, letting out a loud blat to get their attention. But Daylon had already seen the zombies on the road ahead. He held up his arm and made a fist, telling the others to pull over. They reached the crossroads. Daylon led the other two cycles in a U-turn that headed them in the opposite direction. As he passed me in the left lane, he pointed up the road, letting me know they’d wait somewhere along the way for me to turn the truck and catch up with them.

As we reached the crossroads, I slowed the semi nearly to a crawl and turned the wheel to the left. I felt the gas sloshing in the tank, the center of gravity shifting as the truck made a slow, lazy turn. My heart was in my mouth. I feared losing balance and tipping over. In my peripheral vision I saw shapes moving down the road toward us, but I concentrated on Aaron’s directions.

“
Now give it a little more gas. Listen to your engine.”

In the side mirror I glimpsed the trailer behind us like big assed parade float. When I looked forward again, a white-haired woman had come out of the field several yards in front of us. She wore high heels and pearls and a Sunday dress and I didn’t see a spot of blood on her. For a moment I thought maybe she was a survivor seeking help. But then a younger woman with a bloody mouth and stained nightgown came out of the corn alongside her. The old lady ignored her so she was either senile or a zombie.

I automatically started to cramp the wheel to avoid them, but Aaron reached out and straightened it. “Slowly put on your brakes. Make sure the cab and tanker are lined up straight then we’ll back up.” I don’t know how he maintained the calm tone of a seasoned driving instructor. The brakes hissed as we came to a stop. Aaron covered my hand on the gearshift, guiding us into reverse.

Hands slapped against the truck and even though we were safely enclosed in the cab, I shivered. When one of the creatures climbed onto the running board and peered into the side window, I ignored its dead face and concentrated on keeping the truck and trailer aligned as we rolled backward. If the zombies didn’t scatter from behind us, we’d simply roll over them.

“
Okay. That’s far enough. Stop.”

I put on the brake until the truck halted and shifted into first again. One more turn and we’d be on our way back west. The route between here and Durbinville had been pretty empty. This new crowd must be coming from Topeka or maybe even beyond, from Kansas City.

Just as I was making the turn, a huge-bellied man in overalls lunged in front of us. I shrieked before the truck hit him, toppling him over. The cab bounced and rocked as it went over the body. My pulse skyrocketed and my palms slipped on the wheel they were so sweaty.

And then, as if zombies weren’t enough, something big and brown burst from the field into our path. A deer. Two of them. I instinctively slammed on the brakes, forgetting Aaron’s warning and felt a hard slap from behind as the gas in the tank surged towards the front and the truck lunged forward.

“
Hit the gas!
”
Aaron yelled.

I did. The truck clipped the hindquarters of the first deer as it shot past and would have hit the second one broadside but the deer made an amazing leap. A streak of brown sailed past the windshield. Hooves dented the metal hood of the cab and then the animal was gone. I lost control for a few moments as the rig swerved and the tanker fishtailed. Cursing, I pulled on the wheel with a white-knuckle grip, trying to correct our course.

“
Don’t cramp it! Take it easy.” Aaron’s cool was blown as our load whiplashed back and forth. Then by some miracle the trailer shifted back into place and we were heading straight west.