Devil's Wake: A Novel by Steven Barnes & Tananarive Due

Author:Steven Barnes & Tananarive Due [Barnes, Steven & Due, Tananarive]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, Action & Adventure, Thrillers, General
ISBN: 9781451617016
Google: LESIU2jPy1sC
Amazon: 1451617003
Publisher: Atria Books
Published: 2012-07-30T04:00:00+00:00

SEVENTEEN

Cold December rain droplets spattered against the windshield, fogging their vision. They passed farmland, a dairy perhaps, and fields filled with weeds and dead crops. Nowhere was there a human being to be seen, although occasionally a freak listed in a field, like a drunk leaning into a high wind. Not moving, perhaps conserving energy. When they drove past, occasionally the things turned to watch.

Darius and Dean rode their motorcycles around and around the bus, scanning for trouble but also amusing themselves by weaving between stalled cars, making Kendra’s heart jump every time they nearly collided. After a particularly harrowing near miss, they reached across the road to slap gloved palms.

Kendra sat near the front of the bus, near Terry, and she noticed that the gas tank was alarmingly low: a quarter of a tank! How had they traveled from upstate without any working gas stations? Memories of the gas pumps at Mike’s made her shiver.

They had only been on the road fifteen minutes when Terry stopped at a clutch of abandoned cars blocking the lanes. The Twins had beaten them, circling the knot of cars. They waved to Terry. Kendra hoped that meant there were no freaks. And no pirates. The big bus squealed as it lurched to stillness, almost in protest. For a moment, no one moved or spoke.

“Gas ’n’ go,” Terry finally said. “Road also needs clearing. Careful, everybody. Let’s not hang out here all day.” The guy who’d joked about scrambled brains was gone.

Instructions given, Terry opened the bus doors.

Outside, Terry cradled the shotgun as the Twins examined the cars. Piranha stepped down too, revolver tight in his grip. Sonia carried the rifle. Kendra felt small and useless beside her outside the bus, as good as naked.

While Kendra watched, the others pried open gas tanks, hoses ready to siphon into red gas cans. Half the cars had stopped because they had run out of gas—the other half, who knew?

Two cars looked as if they had simply smacked together, and Kendra approached them slowly. The driver’s side of the white Toyota was splashed with dried blood crawling with flies.

But the cars were empty.

What had happened here? Had one or both drivers been infected?

“Keys!” Darius called, and tried to start the engine of an SUV blocking their passage. A grinding protest, followed by clicks. “Battery’s dead,” he said.

“Can you get the brake off?” Piranha said.

“Yeah, but we flip,” Darius said. “Heads, you push. Tails, I steer.”

Kendra felt the mood easing now that they were in the road and hadn’t been ambushed. Not yet, anyway. But Kendra kept her eyes on the tree line, watching for anything that stirred. More than once, she was fooled by wind massaging the leaves.

At least one of them was always holding a gun on watch while the others pushed cars off the road. Kendra gathered enough nerve to open the door of a black PT Cruiser and look inside; the car reminded her of a miniature hearse.

Inside, she found children’s clothes, a little red shirt, and blue striped pants.

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