Chapter 24

It's been a couple of weeks since we found the run-down house to camp at. We decided to head North where there would likely be fewer people, hence less undead. We've been rotating between driving and camping out when we were too tired to go on. We managed to find a few places with good supplies to keep us going and we've all had plenty of time in the car to get to know each other better.

Mikayla would have been a Junior in high school. Her 15th birthday is coming up in a couple of days. She used to be in the art club before all of this happened. Jackson, on the other hand, had been working as a mechanic after leaving his parents behind when he turned 18. They were both bad people according to him and probably hadn't noticed he left. I wonder what that must have been like, my life was more like Mikayla's. I had parents, a sister, and a nice home life. It must have been hard for him. Neither Mikayla nor I press for more details because we don't want to ruin our good moods.

We are still on the road; I'm driving while Jackson and Mikayla look at the map, we brought with us. I'm zoning out, thinking about how different things are starting to feel between all of us when I notice a truck in the rearview mirror. This car is decent but doesn't compare to the large truck barreling up from behind us.

"Guys, do you see that or is it time for me to take a nap?"

Right as I say that they hear the engine and look up, now I'm a little shocked, since I know I wasn't hallucinating. My grip on the steering wheel tightens and I speed up a bit, careful to watch for obstacles in front of me. As I'm dodging debris and bodies the truck doesn't let up on its pursuit. I jump and swerve a little, nearly missing an abandoned car, when Jackson's hand grabs my shoulder. I glance at him briefly; his mouth is set in a thin line.

"Pullover. Let's see what they want."

I gasp. "Are you crazy? They could be after our vehicle and supplies. They could do god knows what with me and Mikayla. They could be from that one group that's hell-bent on killing me."

The annoyance in my voice is obvious but before I can continue spurting out different scenarios Jackson stops me.

"We will get our weapons ready and be extra cautious. But we can't go on like this, someone will run out of gas or someone will get run off the road. And it will more than likely be us for both of those." He says in a matter of fact way and I can't argue.

He's right. Playing cat and mouse with a small car and a big truck isn't going to end well for the small car. I sigh and forget about my argument as Jackson and Mikayla dig out some small handguns, we scored from a sporting store on the outskirts of a town. He gives Mikayla a quick refresher course on the gun's safety and how to aim and she rolls her eyes.

"Yes, dad. I remember how to point and shoot. I passed the second grade." She sounds just like the teenager she is.

Jackson doesn't like her remark, but it causes me to smirk a little. We are nowhere near old enough to be her parents but sometimes it feels that way. Jackson has been teaching her to shoot on our supply runs. She isn't good but she isn't terrible. A little more practice and I won't worry as much.

Once they've got our weapons ready, I pull to the side of the road in an area that isn't too heavily coated with zoms. The few that are roaming flock to the side of our car immediately though, but the truck beats them to it. The sickening crunching and splattering of organs and other miscellaneous matter as the truck slams the limping freaks is enough to turn my stomach. I realize I involuntarily clutched my stomach and I take a deep breath, looking away from the carnage. The truck does a quick turnaround to come back to us, the front and windshield covered in thick, congealed blood and rotted chunks of flesh. You can see flaps of skin that were shredded from being caught in the grill flapping as the truck moves closer. The sight makes me shudder.

Jackson hands me one of the handguns and I make sure it's ready as a middle-aged man hops out of the truck, now parked in the middle of the road just a few feet away. He is a little heavy set but has that kind grandpa feel just from looking at him. Wearing a button-up shirt and some jeans he looks like a normal older man. I feel a little relieved because he doesn't look to be the type to be with those military assholes. Mikayla and I are still watching when we hear the car door open and shut as Jackson hops out, gun tucked in the back waistband of his pants, and struts over to meet the man halfway.

Mikayla immediately flings herself between the two front seats, scrambling to get into the passenger seat to use it as a better vantage point. I smile at her silly behavior, but she just stares at the two men as they talk. I turn back to watch and it seems like a nice conversation. There is no heated body language and if I didn't know any better, I would assume they were just two guys making small talk about the weather or football, some crap like that.

"Can you see anyone else in that truck?"

I look towards the truck; the windows are tinted, and the passenger seat is empty so if there is anyone else then they must be in the back seat and therefore not visible from our position. I shake my head at her, and she looks curious as she continues to stare hard at the truck.

I sigh and set my gun down between the two seats. I busy myself with braiding my hair back, a ponytail holder already waiting for use on my wrist.

"I wonder what they are talking about. It's been a while."

Mikayla looks at what I'm doing in awe before responding. "It hasn't been that long; guys always talk forever. They are worse than girls." She watches me silent for a moment. "Will you teach me how to do that someday?"

I look over and see hope filling her sweet eyes and it makes me happy. "I would love to teach you." She smiles and hugs me, careful not to bump my arms while I'm braiding.

I remember when all this happened a couple of months ago, I couldn't braid my hair without my arms going numb but now it seems my strength and stamina have surely increased. That makes me feel good because any improvement means a better chance of survival and an easier time protecting my new family. It's still hard for me to think about the word family. While I can't imagine losing Jackson and Mikayla, a couple of weeks ago I couldn't imagine losing my parents or Elizabeth either. This puts a big damper on my mood. I snap out of it when I hear the truck door shut loudly. I look and see a girl that must be around my age hop out of the backseat. She's wearing some spandex leggings and a tight shirt. Her hair is all thrown to the side in long waves. She practically skips over to the man and Jackson, batting her eyelashes as she introduces herself to him. I'm immediately hit with white-hot jealousy and Mikayla knows because I can see her trying to gauge my reaction from the corner of her eye. I don't let anything show on my face though.

After another second Jackson comes back over to the car looking hopeful and I open the door slightly to allow him to talk. I wasn't expecting what he said though.

"This guy and his daughter found a map indicating a safe place. I think we should check it out."