Green Fields Series Box Set | Vol. 4 | Books 10-12 by Lecter Adrienne

Author:Lecter, Adrienne [Lecter, Adrienne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
Published: 2020-10-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9

The mood in the car was, frankly put, subdued going on graveyard, but I didn’t find it within me to try to change it. I knew it was more than just bad practice not to sleep the night before what would be one awful tour de force, but at least the drugs had finally worn off, and most of the withdrawal symptoms were gone, too. I felt more like myself than in what seemed like months rather than the realistic week that it had been—which was great, seeing as being myself would be all the better if I got torn apart by the Dallas resident undead population. Red was driving while I was riding shotgun, poor Gallager again exiled to the jump seat in the middle of the back row. The soldiers seemed more somber than depressed, as if staring their own mortality in the face was business as usual. In many ways, it probably was. For me? Not so much.

We had our gear ready to leave the car on a moment’s notice, but as it turned out, that wasn’t necessary. Twenty miles outside of our designated drop-off zone we ambled onto the highway to start the agonizing and slow trek toward Dallas. Even that far outside the city, the road was jam-packed with car wrecks, and no clean-up effort had even started, let alone shown progress over the past years. I’d been aware of how much the trade routes had been prepped, but only after seeing the stark difference here did it hit home how much work and man hours had been put into keeping traffic up across the country. In a sense, that made me hopeful for the future, but it also underlined just how devastatingly destructive the events of the past years had been. Our country was fighting, tooth and nail, but with the chokehold of insanity slowly but steadily killing progress. If I hadn’t had reasons aplenty for this mission, that realization would have been enough to make me dare the hike into Dallas ten times over.

Progress ground down to barely faster than walking speed, and we spaced out the cars farther and farther with every mile southwest, both out of necessity but also to attract the least amount of attention possible. The wrecks were abandoned for the most part but a few shamblers popped out of them whenever metal scraped on something, forcing us to mostly use the middle strip between the strips of tarmac, or the shoulders wherever not packed with mangled cars. There were traces of fires raging across the road and tornadoes hurling cars this way and that, which helped as much as hindered our progress. I thought the first few miles were bad, until we reached what I realized would be our final stopping point five miles outside what we’d hoped would be our drop-off, where a giant heap of metal blocked the entirety of the road. What seemed to have started out as a roadblock probably enacted by FEMA had turned into a barrier that nature had smashed cars on cars into, erecting a now permanent wall.

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