The Reanimates (Book 2): The Highway (14 page)

It was time to get back on the road. The change-up brought some excitement to the kids, who seemed to miss being traveling buddies. Trent was grateful that the bus was newer because it was an automatic transmission. It was going to make things much nicer for everyone.

We didn't get far before we ran into another snarl of traffic. We got the cars out of the way, again. Like what we did when we went through Las Vegas, we decided that it was time for the group to get off the freeway for a while and go through Salt Lake City's streets. We ran through the city parallel to the freeway as much as we could. The snow was much deeper in Salt Lake than we expected, and the SUV had its work cut out for it with pushing the plow blade. We kept having to take little detours because of traffic or other roadblocks, but before too long we were out of the city. We realized that we had gone past our on ramp and so we doubled back to get on the I-15 again.

We took a quick bathroom break now that we were back on track and got going again. The roads were nice and clear for a while. We joked together in the bus, and were able to revel in the togetherness. Lacey trimmed my hair to take away some of the really jagged lines. The kids played games on the mattresses in the back of the bus. Even Jody seemed lighter than before being able to be around adults.

Road signs pointed the way to the next town, Heartsvale, which was very near the Idaho border. We were almost there. It was within our grasp to be done with this journey. Finally. I was elated.

Then I saw the body hanging from a billboard.

Welcome to Heartsvale

There was a body swaying in the soft wind that was blowing through the hills. It was suspended from the billboard by an old weathered rope, little more than a skeleton in tattered clothes. I felt the bus slow as we passed it, partly because Trent had noticed the body and partly because Lucas had seemed to as well by the way the SUV had slowed and drifted in the lane. The chatter in the bus continued on the light topics they were discussing before, like the best way to cook a turkey and the age limit that should be imposed on wearing shorts, so I don't think anyone else noticed it. I hoped that was the case. I assumed that the person that dangled above just had enough of this life like Tom had, and the billboard was the right height for what they were going after. I caught Trent looking at me in the rear view, our eyes locked for a moment, and we were both grateful that there had been someone that saw the thing. We didn't want to draw attention to it, so we didn't say a word.

We pressed on.

The next billboard had two bodies hanging from it, dangling like macabre wind chimes. They too were weathered and grossly decomposed; the elements wreaked havoc on the corpses. Conversation in the bus ground to a halt as more people noticed the scene. I wondered about the clusters of suicides in this area. The others spoke in hushed tones about the bodies that they just saw, like they were imposing on a funeral. They talked about how sad this world is and how hopeless everything could feel. Jody went silent as she stared at the body even after we passed the scene, her eyes were transfixed on it through the rear window.

We drove on. About 15 minutes later we were stunned to see yet another billboard.

These were not suicides.

An advertisement for Heartsvale Real Estate was graffiti splattered with red paint. A sign that declared, "Looters will pay" was written in bold angry strokes. Below the sign, four bodies, slightly less decomposed than those on past signs, were strung up with large sheets of plywood attached to their feet. Bold black lettering proclaimed the word 'Guilty' on the boards. The bodies and signs swayed in the wind, the signs caught every breeze, which drew the eye to each body. I felt queasy that people were still killing people and turning it into a freak show. There was silence on the bus and I realized that even the kids were pressed against the window staring at the bodies. I stared at them for a bit, noticing how they seemed fascinated by the signs.

Not a one of those kids were acting traumatized over the scene before them. While I was grateful that I didn't have to worry about comforting a freaked out child, I wondered about their mental health in all of this. Were they so immune to horror that this was interesting? Were they thrown by the existence of dead things that stayed dead? Were they waiting for those bodies to wake up and start thrashing on their nooses? They were so accepting, which tugged at my heart. This was their world, one where mummified zombies chased you on the street and people hung other people from signs as a threatening gesture.

We were not planning on staying here at all. We would talk about a break after we got through this place. I wondered if there was anyone left alive in this town, given the age of the dangling corpses, and I felt like a cruel person when I hoped they were all gone. When we got closer to the town, we we found the road blocked by abandoned traffic which made me wonder, and hope, that they had tried to make a run for it after the sign modifications went up.

We had become old pros at clearing a road block quickly so we jumped into gear. The usual group tucked weapons in their belts after they verified they were loaded and ready to go. My Luger was full and I felt comforted by it. In situations like these I still thought of my friend, Joey. I missed him. I missed how he would wander through the group when we were amping up for a possible fight and would speak encouragements in a low voice about our capability to handle stuff. My favorite was when he would say that he taught me how to use the gun and he was an excellent teacher, so I better do a good job.

We started off for the tangle of abandoned vehicles, ready for the smattering of trapped zombies. Instead of the common low moan of the dead, we were surprised by an entirely different sound. We jumped when we heard the deep rumble that came from behind us. We all spun around like choreographed dancers in response to the unexpected noises, not expecting to really see anything, maybe it was just thunder or something. It wasn't.  Several off road trucks appeared behind us, blocking us in. We were not going to be getting out of this area the way we got in. I heard the sound of rifles and hand guns cocking in front of us as men came out from the car cluster and then the sounds of guns being readied was all around us in stereo. We were surrounded by these strangers. These strangers were armed and targeted on us. I wondered if this was the way a trapped animal felt when the gate slammed behind it. My mouth went dry with the realization of how much deep crap we were in. I had the random thought of being surprised that there were so many people in this area to have such an impressive front line defense. I wondered about how many people were inside still and what that group was armed with.

"What's your purpose here?" A man from in front of us called out in a loud, commanding voice. He stepped out from between a couple trucks that had concealed him. He had a shot gun slung over his shoulder, held in place by his right hand over the shoulder strap. He adjusted his cowboy hat with his left hand, angling it to keep the sun out of his eyes and casting a shadow over his face. He wore jeans and a cracked brown leather jacket, looking very much like he was transplanted out of a Texan movie set. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and shook one free, placed it in his mouth, then flicked a lighter. He lit the smoke with a heavy draw as he stared at our little group. He exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I asked you, what's your purpose here? You," he pointed at Trent, "where are you headed?"

Trent swallowed and said, "Just passing through on our way up to Idaho."

"Idaho, huh?" The man in the hat questioned, with slight amusement. "Where you from?"

"We're from California." Trent responded.

The man in the hat turned his head a little and spat, never breaking his eye line of sight on us. He glared at us with skepticism. "Why?"

Trent looked confused for a second. "Why, what?"

The man in the hat rolled his eyes and said with thinly veiled irritation, over enunciating each word as though he were talking to a slow child. "Why are you going to Idaho?"

"Got family there. Or, at least I hope they are still there." Trent returned. Trent was close to using his snarky tone, until he took a reminding glance that the man in front of him was armed and he was not.

From behind the man in the hat another man's voice called out, his tone was melodic and had an interesting cadence. "Bart, these are our guests. They should be welcomed." This new man had an odd laugh when he said this, a cross between amusement and embarrassment on behalf of the hat man who was apparently named Bart.

Bart eyed us with suspicion before he conceded to the other man. "Brother Michael. I was just making sure that these folk weren't a threat before coming to get you."

Bart stepped aside to let the man known as Brother Michael come through. His hair hung around his face in ringlets that had splayed into a halo of frizz. His brown eyes shone brightly in the sunlight and seemed disproportionate to his slight build. He was shorter than the rest of the men in the group but he seemed taller. The respect he got from everyone was amazing and they instantly deferred to him. He clapped his hand over Bart's shoulder and chuckled. "Oh, Bart, I was certain that there was no need for concern. I dreamed of a man in a bus last night. I knew that there was no need for concern." Brother Michael turned to us and said his welcomes to us. "Good afternoon everyone. Welcome to Heartsvale. Welcome! I am Brother Michael, God's prophet to these parts. He told me you all were coming. We have a place for you all to camp tonight, so come on in."

I wondered how we were going to pull that off with the massive obstruction ahead of us. The cars that were seemingly abandoned fired up and parted to open up the road to allow us passage. It was a clever system they had. I thought about making a run for it but with the cars behind us, it didn't seem as though we had much other option. We drove around a corner where a wall of shipping crates were stacked to offer a barrier between the outside world and their town. The way the containers were arranged, we were forced to take an off ramp to a makeshift gate. A gate was rolled open and we followed the lead car inside. A man's arm poked out the window and pointed over to the direction he wanted us to follow. The roads were cleared of snow and piled into drifts. We were directed to an alley behind a convenience store where the car stopped. The driver's door opened and a man stepped out. He zipped his jacket up and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he went to speak to Lucas first. He waited for the window to unroll before he started to talk. They spoke for a moment before he came to the bus.

He went to the passenger side of the bus. Trent ran the handle to open the door for the man. He stepped just inside the door and spoke clearly so everyone could hear him. "You all can stay here tonight. The store has been cleared out and has cots set up inside. You can sleep here tonight, or in your cars. Don't matter to me none. There's a bathroom inside that works and a shower with hot water installed. There is a kitchen space set up. We'll bring you some food. For tonight, you are not welcome to explore the town. You are all on isolation over here. If you are caught outside this immediate area, and yes you will be caught, there will be consequences. We will shoot. Brother Michael says to let you in so we did, but until we are sure that none of you are sick or a threat to us, you are to stay put." Trent nodded his head in understanding. I knew from that tense nod that while he understood he didn't like this one bit. I didn't either. I had visions of being robbed clean of our supplies or the women kidnapped. My brain came up with horrible visions that I didn't want to admit to.

"We don't want to be a burden on your town. We just wanted to pass through. We are very grateful for your hospitality, though." Trent said.

The man raised his eyebrow. "You are staying here. If you leave this area we will shoot you. That includes if you try to leave town. Are we clear?"

We were clear. After the man left, we piled out of the bus and checked out the inside of the store. It had been stripped down to nothing with the exception of a row of cots along one wall and a propane stove on a table on the other. A space heater was set up next to a few tables with chairs around them for dining. There was a wall that separated the main area from a bathroom that did indeed have a shower of sorts, a hose with a valve that diverted water from the faucet on the sink hung in the corner on a raised platform with a drain that must have gone to the outside.

There was a generally creepy feeling about how this was all arranged. Trent put his arm around me and pulled me close. I leaned into him.

"I don't like this, Trent." I whispered. He nodded and whispered that he wasn't a fan of this whole thing either. "What do we do?" I asked.

"I don't know."

Tyreese, Matt and Lucas joined us. "What do we make of this whole thing?" Tyreese asked in a low voice. We watched as the others collected in small groups whispering to one another.

"I don't like it." Matt said quietly. "I think it's a set up. I don't know if this is some plot to take the supplies that were brought in or our people or if it's a brain washing cult. That Brother Michael guy has me on edge."

I nodded. "I don't think we should leave the vehicles unattended tonight. The guy said he didn't care if we slept inside the building or in the cars. If he was bluffing, I say we call him on it."

Tyreese agreed with me. "I planned on folding down the seats in the van and crashing there tonight. Matt, you want to take the SUV?"

Matt nodded. "I planned on it." I wondered to myself if he was looking forward to being alone so he could have a good cry without an audience. He hadn't had a moment to himself since Merideth died.

"Trent, Drew, and I will take the bus." I chimed in, grateful that we were all on the same page of wanting to make sure the supplies were protected.

"Lucas, will you keep an eye on the people inside?" Tyreese asked. Lucas agreed instantly, as though there was never a question on this. "Good. I'll have DaWayne help on security. I think his shoulder is making him more bored than anything, so this will be good for him. We need to be tight on the buddy system anytime we go in or out, and since it was mentioned, the girls need a male escort."

The man that brought us to this shelter came back a while later with a box of dehydrated food packets for dinner and for breakfast the next day. He was cordial in how he talked to us and made sure that we had everything that we needed for the night. It seemed so odd that they were being kind to us while at the same time holding us prisoner, and that they were giving while they had people strung up on the interstate. It was hard to reconcile all the conflicting messages and something told me that the conflict was just going to get more dramatic very soon. Before he left, he told us that Brother Michael was going to be making a visit in the morning. I wasn't sure if it was a promise or a threat.

In our group, meals have been a time of togetherness. We recapped the day, told stories, and were generally happy to be together. We weren't chatty that night. The over-all feel was just heavy. We had taken a lot of hits recently, and the death of Merideth was still very fresh on everyone's minds. I thought that if I felt heavy the weight of her death had to be unbearable on her family. To be trapped under the penalty of death was insult to injury.